#also does anyone know how i can put the read more option???

[olivianyx]

hi love! i see so many similarities in your story w mine. Thank you for being so open and honest about it. I too had many troubling thoughts as i am trying to enter the void still. I know death is not the option. I know i want to live, live my best life. I’m glad your brother was able to save you. I’m in a terrible situation currently and sadly can only think of the void to make all of it go away so i had a few questions, i hope you can answer them

Can you go in detail as to what you were doing before you entered the void? like the affs u used, subs u listened to

“I just did my affs, persisted in it, and listened to subs, and on Christmas Eve, I got into it successfully. “

and how did you get into the void? did you meditate or wake up in it? could you also please share how you entered the void for the first time as well?

thank you for your time❤️

Heyy! First of all, your welcome sweetheart, I just wanted to share how naive I was before just like some people struggling to apply the law. If I did it, anyone can.

Second of all, deciding that the void is the ultimate solution will put your own life at risk. I've experienced it. Let's not use it as a method of escapism. The void is you. You are the void. It's not something that you need to achieve. It's just you in your purest form of your awareness. So I need you to understand it my love.

Coming to your questions,

🫶 what was I doing before I entered the void?

I first researched about the void and it seemed like a light at the end of the tunnel honestly. I read success stories and was really eager to try it. I tried it and I did not enter (actually we all enter the void everytime, we just need to be aware of it) so the more I tried and failed being aware, the more depressed I became. Like literally I only used to think of it as a way for escapism.

So I learnt to apply the law first. What does the law of assumption say? What you assume to be true, is the truth. So what was my assumption? I always enter the void being aware. So I started acting like the person who always enter the void. Like I would robotic affirm on my off days. Then after doing this for like a few days, I saw a change in my mindset and I eventually entered the void.

I personally used guided meditations abd sats at night. Subliminals and robotic affirming in the day time. That's it! It was hard for me to change my mind, but I didn't give up. I persisted in my assumptions.

On Christmas Eve, I just laid down and did lullaby method. My aff was 'I'm a master at void' and slowly I felt myself drifting away. And I entered the void that night.

Hope this helps 🤍🤍

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

FYI artists and writers: some info regarding tumblr's new "third-party sharing" (aka selling your content to OpenAI and Midjourney)

You may have already seen the post by @staff regarding third-party sharing and how to opt out. You may have also already seen various news articles discussing the matter.

But here's a little further clarity re some questions I had, and you may too. Caveat: Not all of this is on official tumblr pages, so it's possible things may change.

(1) "I heard they already have access to my data and it doesn't really matter if I opt out"

From the 404 article:

A new FAQ section we reviewed is titled “What happens when you opt out?” states “If you opt out from the start, we will block crawlers from accessing your content by adding your site on a disallowed list. If you change your mind later, we also plan to update any partners about people who newly opt-out and ask that their content be removed from past sources and future training.”

So please, go click that opt-out button.

(2) Some future user: "I've been away from tumblr for months, and I just heard about all this. I didn't opt out before, so does it make a difference anymore?"

Another internal document shows that, on February 23, an employee asked in a staff-only thread, “Do we have assurances that if a user opts out of their data being shared with third parties that our existing data partners will be notified of such a change and remove their data?” Andrew Spittle, Automattic’s head of AI replied: “We will notify existing partners on a regular basis about anyone who's opted out since the last time we provided a list. I want this to be an ongoing process where we regularly advocate for past content to be excluded based on current preferences. We will ask that content be deleted and removed from any future training runs. I believe partners will honor this based on our conversations with them to this point. I don't think they gain much overall by retaining it.”

It should make a difference! Go click that button.

(3) "I opted out, but my art posts have been reblogged by so many people, and I don't know if they all opted out. What does that mean for my stuff?"

This answer is actually on the support page for the toggle:

This option will prevent your blog's content, even when reblogged, from being shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models.

And some further clarification by the COO and a product manager:

zingring: A couple people from work have reached out to let me know that yes, it applies to reblogs of "don't scrape" content. If you opt out, your content is opted out, even in reblog form. cyle: yep, for reblogs, we're taking it so far as "if anybody in the reblog trail has opted out, all of the content in that reblog will be opted out", when a reblog could be scraped/shared.

So not only your reblogged posts, but anyone who contributed in a reblog (such as posts where someone has been inspired to draw fanart of the OP) will presumably be protected by your opt-out. (A good reason to opt out even if you yourself are not a creator.)

Furthermore, if you the OP were offline and didn't know about the opt-out, if someone contributed to a reblog and they are opted out, then your original work is also protected. (Which makes it very tempting to contribute "scrapeable content" now whenever I reblog from an abandoned/disused blog...)

(4) "What about deleted blogs? They can't opt out!"

I was told by someone (not official) that he read "deleted blogs are all opted-out by default". However, he didn't recall the source, and I can't find it, so I can't guarantee that info. If I get more details - like if/when tumblr puts up that FAQ as reported in the 404 article - I will add it here as soon as I can.

Edit, tumblr has updated their help page for the option to opt-out of third-party sharing! It now states:

The content which will not be shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models, includes: • Posts and reblogs of posts from blogs who have enabled the "Prevent third-party sharing" option. • Posts and reblogs of posts from deleted blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from password-protected blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from explicit blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from suspended/deactivated blogs. • Private posts. • Drafts. • Messages. • Asks and submissions which have not been publicly posted. • Post+ subscriber-only posts. • Explicit posts.

So no need to worry about your old deleted blogs that still have reblogs floating around. *\o/*

But for your existing blogs, please use the opt out option. And a reminder of how to opt out, under the cut:

The opt-out toggle is in Blog Settings, and please note you need to do it for each one of your blogs / sideblogs.

On dashboard, the toggle is at https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/blogname [replace "blogname" as applicable] down by Visibility:

For mobile, you need the most recent update of the app. (Android version 33.4.1.100, iOs version 33.4.) Then go to your blog tab (the little person icon), and then the gear icon for Settings, then click Visibility.

Again, if you have a sideblog, go back to the blog tab, switch to it, and go to settings again. Repeat as necessary.

If you do not have access to the newest version of the app for whatever reason, you can also log into tumblr in your mobile browser. Same URL as per desktop above, same location.

Note you do not need to change settings in both desktop and the app, just one is fine.

I hope this helps!

[ao3commentoftheday]

I've always found it hard to find the right words for comments, but I used to try and put down something on all the fics I liked but after seeing what some of my writer friends, who are fairy popular in their fandoms, say privately in the groupchat about some of the comments they get, I can't bring myself to leave any comments at all any more.

I know it's a form or unloading where they can salt without hurting anyone and I generally think that's a good thing, saltmates are needed so you can talk about all the crappy annoying things in fandom in a private space and not spread shit on tumblr or ao3 etc.

But It's so so disheartening to me as a comment shy reader because it's never good enough. If it's just emoji hearts or someone saying "second kudos" it's too short and worthless. If it's epicly long well-written, funny, sweet, and clever love bombing, then it's too much and annoying.

I just don't understand, I don't write myself, I draw, badly, and I never get the kind of praise they sometimes get, but I would LOVE to have some of those things said about my work.

I love my friends a lot and I'm a firm believer in saltmates, but it makes me a little crazy and very paranoid to see the difference between what they say in private and what they actually answer to the comments in public on their fics.

I've read a lot here on tumblr about how fic writers love ALL comments etc etc and a lot of tips and tricks for people who have problems leaving comments, but I dont trust that now and I never comment anymore because I do not want a writer of a fic I love to think such things about me, even if it's just in their minds in private.

Do I have extra salty friends or is this a common thing among writers that no one wants to admits out loud?

From my experience, as a writer in fandom on and off for 20-ish years and as the mod of a comment-positive fandom ask blog, your friends are extra salty.

Have I heard people get frustrated with "I liked this!" comments? Sure. But for every one of those, I hear at least 10 people who are giddy and bouncing and just over the moon that someone liked their fic. I've never heard anyone complain about "epicly long well-written, funny, sweet, and clever love bombing." Most fic writers I know would probably pass out from happiness if they received one of those.

I don't know your friends, of course, but it sounds like someone in the group got a little toxic at some point and the rest of them went along, for whatever reason. Maybe burnout was a factor. Maybe they had a specific thing they wanted to get from their comments section that they weren't able to receive. Whatever the cause, the effect on you is bad.

I know you didn't ask for what to do about this, but I'm going to lay it out for you anyway:

stay in the group chat and feel worse and worse about every comment you've ever left on a fic

say something to your friends and ask that they have those conversations when you're not around (your choice if you include the part about it being because they make you feel bad)

leave the group chat and maybe also lose those friends

None of those options are great, but your current situation already sucks so it might be time to try something new.

I'm so so sorry that they made you feel like your comments weren't enough, anon. You don't deserve that. No one does. I hope if those authors see this ask that they pause and reflect and realize the audience they were speaking in front of.

I agree that people need a place to be salty, and I appreciate them doing it in a private space - but it wasn't private enough. ❤️

[bluetimeombre]

: ̗̀➛ Call it what you want to

You're an up-coming star, staring in some hit movies like Hunger games Ballad of songbirds and snakes and now Wonka, along the Timothee Chalamet.

[i'm obsessed with my man and just need to ignore the fact he's dating someone that isn't me. anyway, you're an up-coming actress who stared in the new hunger games movie and now you're also staring in wonka, the people love you and maybe, so does a co-star of yours] not proof read. this was very fun to write so maybe i'll do more, if anyone likes it. or just for me

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

liked by... tayrussell, joshandresrivera, tomblyth, sadiesink_, tchalamet & others

yourusername: wonka press tour starts now!

809k likes. 304k comments

user: wait, you're in wonka?!

user: I LOVE YOU!!

user: mother giving us content, as always

tchalamet: now you've posted can you come up and help me

yourusername: no

tchalamet: pls!!!

user: omg she really said no to timothee chalamet, who does she thin she is?

user: slayyyy

user: isn't wonka supposed to suck

tomblyth: from one press tour to another, i see

yourusername: girls got to earn a living

tomblyth: she doesn't let the grass grow

user: say hi to timothee for me!!!!

user: omg how is she getting all the hottest guys in hollywood rn? gurl leave some for us

wonkamovie: 😍😍

balladofsongbirdsandsnakes: 😍😍😍

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

you were flicking through comments by your friends when your phone started to ring, the familiar picture of your co-star flicking up on your phone. quickly, you dimissed yourself from your assistant and took the call. 'yes?'

'I need your help.'

'Timothee, you're old enough to zip up your own jacket,' you tease, leaning on the wall.

'I don't know what jumper to wear, what are you wearing? we'll coordinate.'

you'd opted for something of your own style. a jumper with pinks and blues and a white flowering skirt with a ring almost on every finger. this was only your second big press tour and sitting next to timothee chalamet every day for it was enough to make you nervous. so nervous you woke every morning wondering if you'd throw up. it didn't help you were also surrounded by others you'd looked up to, like olivia coleman and hugh grant. how were you supposed to keep your cool for months. even if now you were considered just as big a star.

'don't you have a stylist for this?' you ask, looking at the crew around, ready to go but waiting for him.

'there's three options and i don't know which one to go for. can't you just come up.'

you could, sure. go to timothee's hotel room and see him probably shirtless. once you'd have dreamt of it, but things were different, now you just didn't have a silly celebrity crush. now he was your co-star and very off limits.

'option two now come on, please.' quickly, you end the call and pick up your coffee, heading to the room where you'd be sat for the next eight hours answering questions with timothee.

you were there first, shaking hands with the interviewer and introducing yourself to her. you took your seat, making little chatter before timothee chalamet walked in, calm, cool and collected. completely different to your flushed and smiling expression.

you watched as he quickly said hello to everyone in the room and greeted the lady who'd be conducting the interview.

timothee turned to you, arms out wide and waiting. laughing, you put your coffee down and stood up, giving him a hug. you shared small pleasantries before he took his seat next to you, shuffling around and settling in. only then did you realise how much your jumpers looked the same, both smudges of similar colours. you blushed more as timothee watched, silently wondering what could make you so red. as if he had no idea what he did to you just by sitting down next to him.

'I have had scrub scrub stuck in my head since seeing the movie,' she- charline, said as you and timothee laugh. 'do you guys have a favourite song you got to perform?'

'I mean, pure imagination was quite a surreal experience. you know, getting to sing something that was so ... iconic, it was-it was a lot of fun. and a lot of pressure, but, in a good way,' said timothee.

'you killed it,' you assure, casually.

'thank you,' he smiled.

'i really enjoyed you've never had chocolate like this number. that was just so fun, the dancing and all,' you say, timothee nodding and agreeing.

'for a moment was fun to, i guess,' added timothee. 'we got to dance.'

you grin at the memory. 'we did.' you remembered the a million takes, timothee singing practically to you while prancing around. it was your favourite scene to shoot because it was such an easy and happy scene. you didn't have to think about it, just held timmy's hand as he twirled you around the place.

'and i know we're here to talk about wonka but i just have to say-' she gestured to you, 'congratulations on hunger games, biggest movie in the world.'

you wave her off, thanking her as timmy claps for you. 'thank you, thank you.'

'i was wondering what was your favourite song to film there on that set and how does it compare to singing on this one.'

ranting about yourself or your achievements was always hard for you. your stardom and come so quickly with hunger games and wonka, so much so you felt like you didn't deserve half of it.

'i mean, for hunger games it was all live. i sang them there and then so that's daunting in itself, um. i loved filming pure as the driven snow, just because i got to- essentially- sing it to tom. it was just him and me and the crew, like for those shots there was no extra's so that was great fun. a special moment. and singing it to him made it a whole lot easier. whereas on this movie, luckily it was all like pre-recorded so, not so daunting. didn't have to sing in front of timothee chalamet,' you say.

he listened carefully to you, seeing your smile at mentioning tom blyth, your co-star from the hunger games. he'd never met the guy, he was probably lovely- from the amount you talked about him. 'you've got a great singing voice.'

'thanks man.'

'this cast is just so insane and obviously you two got close during filming,' says charline, gesturing to the two of you.

timothee nudged you with his head, like he'd done a thousand times before knowing how much you secretly loved it. just like a horse, as had been quoted.

'who's more british, olivia or hugh?'

'hugh, easily,' you say. you loved all of hugh's movies, but you'd never say that to his face.

'you know, i'm gonna go and say you,' says timothee, turning to you.

you drop you jaw, pointing to yourself. yes, you were british, but more so than than the hugh grant seemed impossible. 'me?'

'yea, i mean, hugh grant is like a walking union jack- and i mean that in the best way possible, but you seem so much more like british. you know, wicked sense of humor and the charm and- you love london,' he pointed out.

'i do love london,' you agreed.

'did you have fun filming in england, timothee?' she asked.

they want on and on to talk about filming the movie, answering questions in depth and it was sure the two of you had great answers, listening intently together and everyone could tell. your chemistry was there, your smiles and answers together were almost so perfect it was like it was practiced and the fans ate it up!

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

liked by... zendaya, mtv, kyliejenner, yourusername, wbpictures & others

tchamalmet: WONKA!!! coming soon

tagged: yourusername

1.1m likes, 609k comments

user: he posted! he posted!

user: we are getting FED

user: i just know this is all yourusername influence

user: not kylie liking...

user: statistics! statistics!

liked by yourusername

yourusername: bring back little timmy tim!

yourusername: out of all the pictures you chose that one

user: anyone else think her and timmy are getting too close

user: like fr she stealin my man

user: i love them!!!

user: i swear something is going on with her and tom blyth

user: she's just like us!

user: LOVE!!!!!

user: her and timmy >>> him and kylie

user: plssss, i love kylie

user: is wonka a musical

user: TIMMY I WANT TO HAVE YOUR CHILDREN!!!

user: fave bob dylan song?

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

liked by... tomblyth, rachelzeglar, tchalamet, hunterschafer, zendaya & others

yourusername: ballad of song birds and snakes is number one movie? more like i'm the number one most grateful person out there for this chance and being trusted with my girl lucy-grey!!! thank you, thank you, thank you!!

tagged: tomblyth

1m likes 477k comments

tomblyth: lots of love my dear !

user: pls the second picture was so unncesary she just wanted to post it

user: MOTHER

user: parents are parenting

user: I LOVED THIS FILM

user: tom blyth is honestly so hot like wtf

rachelzeglar: my luv <3

yourusername: omg my gf everybody!!!!

joshandresrivera: funny how you don't post a picture of me

yourusername: it's funny because i don't like you

joshandresrivera: tomblyth you gonna let her talk to me like that??

tomblyth: she's the boss

user: how is she so amazing in everything

user: wonder how she got this job? she's literally as plain as a plank

user: hi!

user: the film was insane, i'm obsessed

user: i need this film injected into my veins

user: she's so good at singing, get her on broadway!!!

tchalamet: very proud

yourusername liked tchalamet's comment

user: why would you post the second pic unless they're clearly dating

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

user: pls why do i ship them so hard!!

user: lol it looks like he's just refusing to answer questions without her

user: is nobody gonna talk about how they were basically wearing the same jumpers?

user: no because i thought the exact same thing

user: someone pointed it out in an interview and timothee said it was 100% planned, they're so cute

user: doesn't he have a girlfriend?

user: isn't she with tom blyth? they look like they're together?

user: they haven't confirmed it

user: they don't need to did you see her post on instagram?! it was all just him

user: no but the way she's just constantly blushing around him

user: so would you if you were sat next to the timothee chalamet

[almalvo]

About An Official Spiderverse Artist...

Please do not just scroll past this post; read it.

If you guys follow me on twitter, you probably already know.

But if you dont or still want to read this anyway - here you go:

I aint big, but I got a growing platform that I see as important for me to use as a force for things that matter.

So here I am.

And I got something to say about a certain "artist".

There are so many fucked up people who call themselves artists who are so heavily worshipped by us who both get and or dont get outed in the world for things they do and for their general piss-poor behaviours and persons.

Im here to talk about one in particular (and certainly wont be the last).

There is an artist that basically EVERYONE here has seen art from before, printed in the official Sony artbooks too.

If you have seen this:

Then you have seen this artist before.

His name is Alberto Mielgo. He goes by @/pinkman_himself on twitter.

He is a HUGE part of the art direction and stylisation of the spiderverse movies, if that isnt already obvious. Because he was the former original art director of Into The Spiderverse.

Yes. Former.

Cuz he got "mYsTeRiOuSlY fiReD" from Sony 2 years into pre-production and completely removed from the project.

You may have also seen this character before:

Yes. THAT asian character from Netflix's Love Death + Robots, from the episode "The Witness".

Familiar? Yeah. Because this episode was also made by the same guy, Mielgo.

I aint going to talk about what happens in that episode and hesitate to encourage anyone to watch it - cuz all it basically is is a megalo-misogynistic, assault "glorified for the sake of aRtT", racially fetishised showcase of this crazy makeup/haired bdsm stereotyped asian girl sex worker who essentially gets murdered over and over and over after running for her life completely naked through the city for all of us to see for some fucking reason.

BUt yeah anyways, you can see it in the first pic, but Ill put it here to show more clearly - this here is NOT the character from LDR. But I can understand why you might think so:

Yeah. You read that name in the bottom right corner correctly. This is Peni Parker. His concept art of Peni Parker. A 13 YEAR OLD CHILD. Lookin suspiciously like and dressed as the adult person from LDR with ALSO the crazy hair, make up - WITH AN O-RING CHOKER AND BALL-GAG LIPSTICK (BDSM).

13. year. old. child.

This man only sees east asian women this way.

He likes them crazy, sexy, broken--

and young.

Cuz this man also wrote this on a now-deleted post on his website:

Yeah. He, this whole ass middle-aged white cishet male spaniard thirstin for kids since he was 18 for 12 year old girls.

Cuz 12 year old girls are a fuckin "KNOCK OUT" when they grow up, when they ripen up into adulthood, to this man Alberto Mielgo, aka @/pinkman_himself, this creature.

And if auctioning NFTs isnt bad enough (cuz yes, ofc he does that too - its literally the first option on his website) -

His entire fucking portfolio is of drawing women he had sex with.

His fucking PROFESSIONAL PORTFOLIO is all of painting and drawing women in very compromising, questionable ways of the VERY SAME WOMEN HE HAD SLEPT WITH THROUGH HIS LIFE.

They look as creepy as they are.

But the scariest part?

While I myself had only just found out about this some days ago as of writing this, some of us have known about this man and his antics for years.

And he keeps getting greenlit by the industry, over and over and over; winning awards, getting respected, praised, admired, even by fellow at-home artists like many of you out there if you dont already do so.

And nothing will happen to him cuz he is a white cishet male artist who has money and a following and connections and influence and power.

So yeah.

I just wanted to talk about a certain official Spiderverse artist to just let yall know there are freaks everywhere, and that no matter how small it is, it's people like me and you who need to do what we can to keep up awareness and warn our communities and protect our most vulnerable.

My suggestion is to take heed of what I said, ask questions about everything you will ever see again from anyone around you, no less the industry, THINK for once, and actually give a fuck.

Keep away.

Do not support this man.

But the decision is ultimately yours.

Stay awake, yall.

-------

(His face, publicly available as his imdb profile):

scary.

[badasmuse]

“Drunk and Possessive”

Bada Lee x Reader

Warnings: 18+(MDNI), language, drunk!bada, possessive!bada, lowercase intended, violence, suggestive if you squint, name calling (from outsiders), no relationship (yet)

Summary: bada takes you to a party and man she’s never been more angry.

A request so no song

bada has had a crush on you for so long. she’s your best friend and has been since you met on the playground after some little asshole was bullying you so she kicked sand in her face. even tho there’s six years between you two, you don’t let it bother you. you’re still besties for the resties.

but despite being able to read her like a book, you’re completely oblivious to her so disgustingly obvious crush. she’d do anything for you. literally anything. she proved that when one time you were walking in the park and thought it would be funny to go, “i bet you won’t grab that squirrel.” big mistake on your end cause the mf went and grabbed the squirrel and it bit her.

“you’re a fucking idiot why would you grab the squirrel?” you said driving her to the hospital.

“you told me to.” she said pouting, holding her bleeding hand close to her chest.

you’ve also had a crush on bada for awhile but you hide it from everyone. you didn’t think you were her type. you weren’t a dancer, you don’t have any real talent, you’re an art major but you don’t even think you can draw that well. (even tho you’re absolutely amazing to anyone else. especially bada.)

speaking of bada and art, you just left ceramics class, your last class of the day, and guess who’s outside with your favorite biggby drink and a soft pretzel.

“hey.” bada says softly as you approach her.

“you don’t understand how bad i needed this.” you say throwing your bag in the backseat and hugging bada tight, planting a light kiss on her cheek before taking the coffee and pretzel.

bada blushes and opens the door for you, grabbing your arm to help you in. “i don’t understand how you wear those heels.” she mumbles before closing the door and getting in the driver’s seat.

“i wear them to match your height. you’re too tall.”

she chuckles and starts driving. “you wanna come to a party with me tonight?”

“what i tell you about this last minute shit bada?” you say rolling your eyes.

“i know i know a week in advance. but like.. you’re not doing anything. might as well come.” she says pinching your cheek.

“i guess so.” you groan. “fine i’ll go. what time? what should i wear?”

“whatever you want.” bada pulls into the lot of your shared apartment and obviously goes around to open the door for you grabbing your hand to help you out.

“bada you’re such a gentleman.” you giggle going to grab your bag but she beats you to it.

“come on, angel.” she says walking behind you with a hand on your back. like she always does.

a few hours later, you’re out the shower and standing in front of the mirror wondering what to wear. you have two options and you don’t want to ask bada cause man- that woman is no help. none at all.

you settle on the short black dress and pair it with ankle boots, obviously heeled. you do a quick smokey eye look to match the dress and finally put it on pouting as you reach for the zipper but it’s just out of reach, barely touching your fingertips.

“bada~” you call out, the pout evident in your voice.

“yes?” she walks in fully dressed looking like a tall glass of water and all of a sudden, you’re thirsty.

but you’d never say that.

“can you zip this for me?” you give her doe eyes knowing she wouldn’t say no in the first place but they add character.

she walks behind you and gently pulls the zipper up and man the electricity that went through you when her long fingers brushed against your back.

“you look good.” bada comments looking at you through the mirror.

“thanks i’m hoping to find someone tonight. hopefully a relationship but a hookup is just as good.”

bada’s jaw clenches and she clears her throat, “let’s go.” she mumbles walking downstairs to get her shoes and keys.

you follow her grabbing your shoes and blushing when bada kneels to put them on for you and zip them up.

like girl how can you not see she in love with you???

———

once you arrive at the party, bada immediately goes to get a drink. you follow and pull her down so she can hear you, “don’t drink too much bada.” you whisper and she just nods.

you get yourself a drink and leave to find someone to dance with. you find yourself in the middle dancing with a group of people.

bada watches, standing next to lusher and tatter with a pout on her face.

“you know,” lusher starts, “if you just told her you love her she wouldn’t be all over them she’d be all over you.”

“if she feels the same way.” tatter added which she immediately regretted cause if looks could kill… yeah.

time passes and bada has had way too many. she can barely stand up straight and her speech is beyond slurred, she’s practically incoherent. not to mention her vision is incredibly blurry.

despite all that, she does see the guy that approaches you and starts dancing with you. you’re having a great time and bada is pissed.

she pushes herself off the wall and stumbles over to you and the guy. “hey.” she slurs separating you two.

“bada what are you doing?” you ask holding onto her as she slings her arm around you.

“she’s my girlfriend. back.. back off.” she says pushing the guy back.

“she’s been dancing with everyone in here.”

“mhm and i’m putting a stop to it. she’s mine. fuck off.”

“go ahead keep her. but in my opinion, if she’s gonna act like a whore i’d just pass her off.” he shrugs.

that sobered bada right up.

she runs a hand down her face, cocks her arm back, and swings. hitting the man full force in the face, knocking him to the ground.

“BADA!” you yell, barely able to hold her anymore. you quickly drag her outside and make her sit down on the curb. “what is your problem?” you ask, inspecting her hand.

“my problem? you. you’re my problem. you’re so fucking… oblivious. i’m in love with you and you’re constantly flirting with other people and sleeping with other people. you’re mine. i don’t want anyone else touching you the way i should be touching you!” bada grabs your hand and drags you towards her car.

“what are you doing?” you whispered.

“showing you that you’re mine.”

part 2 maybe?

[a-substantial-trash-pile]

hey guess what. it's finally time for my Stardew Valley Loredump. i’m about to ramble about my farmer and yo-yo/yoba and shane in a probably long-ass, disjointed post because i have a problem ok. not expecting anyone to read it all of course—just want to finally write these brainstorming shenanigans down. the loredump will be below the cut below the image 👇 (WARNING: IT'S LONG):

SAMUEL IZAWA:

*samuel is 28 years old, pan, japanese okinawan (no im not self projecting hahaha), and goes by he/they. main thing is that they’re from “our world” where stardew valley is a video game, but he died and ended up in the stardew universe. because i think isekai tropes are fun and silly. as the player, samuel can do things others in the stardew world can’t do, such as: 

summon the in-game HUD that’s only visible to him, so he can see health/energy levels and inventory and all that.

speaking of inventory, it’s essentially a pocket dimension samuel can shove stuff in. the inventory doesn’t really care about size/weight/etc as long as it’s something the system considers an “item.” so like samuel can put a whole ass four poster bed in there but he can’t do that to a person or a whole house. samuel just needs to touch the item to make it disappear into his inventory. he can then summon it back out when he needs it. the game’s inventory limit system remains the same. samuel gets 12 slots on their own, but if they have a bag on them it increases to 36.

can access the player menu you can normally access in game. so like profile, skills, collections, relationships, etc are all there. no options or quit tab though. having the relationship tab is a nightmare for samuel, who has major insecurities about what people think of him. that tab is a quantifiable measure on how much people like him. it a real brain demon for him to know it exists and is right there for him to access anytime. 

can see the “stats” of food and healing items. hp/energy recovery amounts, buffs, etc. 

*funny thing is that samuel has never played SDV himself and only has knowledge based on what he’s heard and seen online secondhand. ironically he was planning on playing the game for the first time before the whole dying thing ruined it. they can’t even remember how they died, but it doesn’t bother them as much as they think it should. they didn’t leave much behind in that life.

*anyway, i’m talking a lot of game terms here, but don’t get it twisted. while samuel has all these game systems going on, the SDV world is very much a real one that doesn’t normally work by that logic. by that i mean time flows normally like in our world and there isn’t just 4 months in a year. things exist outside the valley. there’s a whole planet of places and people. 

*luckily samuel has help in navigating this new world in the form of yo-yo the junimo, who is the first living thing samuel sees when he first wakes up in that joja cubicle. yo-yo helps explain a lot of things and guide samuel around in its own abrasive way. he’s also there to be like, “hey i gave you a second chance at life so you kinda owe me actually. sign this contract.” and samuel, who is a pushover and also confused, is just like, “ok.” (yo-yo sounds like danny devito btw. because i think it’s funny.) 

*i call the contract a “magical girl contract” because that’s essentially what it is. samuel gets access to extra powers/abilities on top the stuff he can already do as a player. in return he fights monsters n shit for yo-yo and generally does things for them that they can’t do easily on their own. the extra benefits include: 

higher pain tolerance. which isn’t always a good thing. especially when you tend to not be great with self-preservation like samuel is. 

can heal most injuries by just eating/drinking stuff to regain hp.

yo-yo can teleport the both of them around as needed, but it’s tiring and it drains a lot of magic. distance matters too.

yo-yo can spawn items but it drains magic as well. the more valuable/rare the item, the more draining it is. spawning items is already a magic-intensive thing in the first place. also yo-yo isn’t creating the item out of nothing. they’re actually randomly taking it from wherever it already exists in the world. for example, say yo-yo “spawns” a jar of pickles. somebody in the world is going to open their fridge and discover their jar of pickles is missing or maybe a grocery store will have a sudden empty spot on its shelf. yo-yo doesn’t have control of where the items are taken from (or so they claim).

samuel and yo-yo’s magic pools became connected so they can both do more than they could do on their own before. this is one of the reasons why yo-yo wanted a contract with samuel, who has a larger magic pool than normal due to being from another world. but it’s possible for one side to use up all the magic for the both of them. 

*samuel’s personality can be summed up as Awkward People-Pleasing Tired Sad Garbage Dork. either he’s dressed like a grandparent in sweaters and turtlenecks or he’s wearing a button up shirt with the collar undone and jeans. they usually have their neck covered in public to hide the mark of yoba embedded there. he has a “resting bitch face” as some may call, but that’s just because his brain is busy over-analyzing 193828 different things. he loves being outside in the grass and dirt, looking at bugs n shit. he’s also a nerd who likes to play video games and ramble about the lore in them (he likes RPGs the most, but if the game’s got a good story and cool world, he’s into it). they like to do things with their hands like model building/painting. in their new stardew life, they get into woodcarving after willy teaches them the basics (he carves shane a little chicken). 

*samuel does NOT know how to say “no.” absolute pushover. their self-worth is based on how much they’re liked by others, which isn’t healthy obviously. he has a fear that the only way he can be liked is by being useful. he’s scared that he is inherently a bad and selfish person, because he can’t say for sure if he’s helping others purely out of kindness or because it just makes him feel better about existing. deep down there’s anger/frustration that’s accumulated over the years, anger towards himself and also others because he’s always doing things for other people—going above and beyond—but it never feels like enough. at the same time though, they hate it when these thoughts come up because they believe that you shouldn’t go into helping somebody expecting that you’ll get something out of it. he hates how much of a hypocrite he is. he hates how he bases so much of his self-worth on the opinions of others, but feels helpless to it. they usually just push these emotions down because samuel feels guilty about them. how can they be a good person if they’re thinking like this? how can they deserve to exist with this mindset? however they get a chance to let out the anger/bitterness/frustration through fighting monsters. kind of disassociating in a way. this also isn’t a good thing because his demeanor is much colder and scarier during combat. having someone who’s felt powerless for so long suddenly gain power is a dangerous thing.

*this mindset when monster fighting shatters when samuel meets krobus and realizes that monsters aren’t just the simple enemy NPCs their brain had been automatically categorizing them as. guilt galore. he gets real depressed about that for a while but yo-yo, krobus, and shane are there to help him. 

*SPEAKING OF SHANE… it’s crush at first sight for samuel because hot damn is shane their type. i mean just look at him. mamma mia. haha anyyyway, they first meet at the stardrop saloon. samuel’s waiting at the bar for his to-go order near where shane is drinking. shane’s looking sad, so samuel gives in and decides they’ll start a convo to maybe distract him from whatever’s bothering him. samuel employs the “crack a dumb joke to hide the fact that i’m nervous because i’m talking to a hot person and then use that opening to introduce myself” strat. shane, being an asshole, is like, “oh so you’re the new farmer. here’s a tip: don’t bother me.” samuel takes 999 damage and their brain immediately goes “THIS IS MY FAULT I FUCKED UP like who wants to be talked to by a stranger when they’re sad goddammit why am i so bad at this?!!” it’s overall not a great first impression. after that, samuel tries to avoid shane out of embarrassment, but circumstances keep making them run into each other. for instance, samuel works a lot with marnie with her being a mentor figure to him in animal husbandry, so he and shane have a lot of opportunity to interact through that (plus marnie is secretly trying to get them closer to each other). through these meetings and shenanigans, samuel and shane get to know each other better until one day they’re friends. then good friends. then best friends. then kiss friends. then marry friends. :)

YOBA (A.K.A. YO-YO): 

*yo-yo is ????? years old and goes by any pronouns but most of the time it's it/they.

*yo-yo is actually THE yoba, but they’re not the completely benevolent creator-of-all-things humans have made them out to be. maybe they were in the past, but now they’re selfish and rude and swear a lot. but they do still care, even if they don’t admit it (tsundere-ass). yoba is currently stuck in the form of a little junimo and is substantially weakened because it gave too much of itself away to the world in the past and got burned for it. because the world kept taking and taking. and now there’s war and pollution and shit and yoba/yo-yo is maybe just a teensy tiny bit angry and bitter now. but it’s ok because now they got this human from another reality to help them reclaim the pieces of itself. and maybe along the way relearn how to love the world again.  

*oh also yoba didn’t create the whole planet like the creation story claims. they’re technically an alien that came across a young planet full of life and decided to stay and help it develop. 

*main reason yo-yo made a contract with samuel is because it needs help finding/reclaiming the pieces of itself. pieces can usually be found in strong monsters empowered by the piece. this isn’t always the case though. sometimes it’s in an ancient artifact. sometimes it’s in a specific place like a temple. sometimes it’s in a person. 

*samuel doesn’t have to deal with having an existential crisis about yo-yo, since he’s from our world where yoba doesn’t even exist as a god. yo-yo claims to be the one responsible for bringing samuel over into the stardew universe, but there are holes in their story. where did yoba even find the power to do such a thing when they’re in such a weakened state? mysterious. 

*the first time yoba reveals itself to shane is kind of chaotic. it’s in the middle of the night when yo-yo suddenly appears in shane’s room, grabs his face with its little stick arms and yells, “WAKE UP!!! YOUR BOYFRIEND IS IN MORTAL PERIL!!!” shane is like, “WHAT THE F–”     it was an act of desperation on yo-yo’s part, because samuel was in trouble and shane was the only one it could think of going to for help. essentially samuel meets something Bad in the deep mines, something that takes him out of commission and puts him in a trance state while draining his lifeforce. y’know, the classic kind of trance state where you need to figure out how to get the person back–how to snap them out of it. yo-yo tried and failed, so that’s where shane comes in. it’s the classic “love-interest-breaks-main-character-out-of-mind-control-with-sheer-power-of-love” trope. except shane does punch samuel during it. lovingly. in the face. hey it works ok.     after the chaos is over and everyone’s safe and gathered together, samuel and yo-yo explain everything to shane (well more like samuel explains everything while yo-yo wishes outloud that they had their memory erasing powers back). shane, who is canonically an atheist, learns that this talking pottymouthed jerkass apple is actually THE yoba and is just like, “yeah. this might as well happen.” and then he remains atheist because what else are you going to do when you learn that god is a talking pottymouthed jerkass apple who calls you a bitch and is also responsible for your partner having to go do dangerous shit. he and yo-yo have a rocky relationship at first to say the least. but once they both realize how much the other cares about samuel, things get a little better. 

*yeah, yoba may be a bitch and they may be angry and they may be bitter, but they really do care, even if they try to convince themselves otherwise. even though so much got taken from it, it still cares about humans and dwarves and shadow people and everything else on the planet. and when it eventually comes down to it, yoba will step up to protect what it loves, even if it means losing everything again. 

SHANE FINCH: 

*this post was technically supposed to just be about my farmer and yo-yo’s lore and stuff, but i gotta give some personal headcanons i have about shane… like for instance his last name is “finch.” because i thought the bird theme was cute. he’s 29 years old, bi, and half asian, half white (in our world that asian half is korean). i’m not being specific because i don’t know if korea even exists in the stardew world, since all we know in the game is that there’s a “ferngill republic” and a “gotoro empire.” i was thinking of just headcanoning that stardew’s planet is essentially the same as earth. so like most of the same countries/nations exist except the history diverged a bit along the way, leading to the ferngill republic and gotoro empire. OK SORRY for the tangent—back on topic.

*so shane is a trans man who started transitioning back in high school. he had two best friends who were very supportive and really helped him on his journey to figure himself out. those two friends were like family to him. it was good that he had this support because his parents were always pretty shitty and shane transitioning just made them act even shittier. the only good family member of shane’s is marnie, who was supportive, but she lived far away, was busy, AND wasn’t on good terms with her sister (shane’s mom), so shane didn’t get to see her much. 

*the moment shane became a legal adult, he got away from his parents, finding a place with his two best friends and moving in together. oh and his friends’ names were rosa and heath. should’ve probably mentioned that earlier oops.     shane, rosa, and heath go to the same college together, suffer student loans, graduate, etc. haven’t thought of what shane would get a degree in yet—most likely something “generic” because he’s unsure of what he wants to do himself (i feel u bby). 

*ok so rosa and heath were dating since high school, but they were so comfortable with shane and vice versa that things never got that awkward living together. however when rosa and heath got married (“yoba, FINALLY,” shane would say), shane felt like it was time to find his own place, much to the devastation of his bffs. the apartment ended up close to where rosa and heath lived of course—the couple made sure of it (“stop backseating my apartment hunting!” “MAKE US”). 

*rosa and heath get pregnant and have a healthy baby girl that they name jasmine. i headcanon jas as black (from heath’s side) and portuguese (rosa’s side). everyone is thrilled about the baby. shane was immediately offered godfather role and he happily accepted. jas was the cutest baby ever and he adored her. he babysat jas all the time. 

*jas was 4 years old when rosa and heath tragically passed away in a car accident. they were coming home from a business dinner when they lost control of their car on some black ice and slid into oncoming traffic. shane was babysitting jas when he got the call. in the span of one cold winter night, shane and jas’s world shattered. 

*rosa and heath didn’t have any reliable relatives either. those relatives only came to take the money and belongings. shane was the only one jas had, so he adopted her. he tried his best to pick up the pieces. he really did. he lasted for a year trying to raise a kid on his own with the salary of a dead-end job, but he knew the situation wasn’t good with the money and how much his mental health was spiraling. he knew he and jas were in dire need of more support (“jas deserves better than this”). so he turned to the one person he had left to rely on: his aunty marnie. and that’s how shane and jas ended up in pelican town.

*shane’s joja jacket was actually originally rosa’s. rosa worked as an accountant for joja and would get free promotional items all the time from the company. the jacket was one of the only things she actually ended up using because “it’s pretty comfy for being joja bs.” she would wear it all the time, much to her more fashion-conscious husband’s chagrin (yet he would patch up any holes she’d get in it anyway). after rosa died, shane kept her jacket. there were a lot of memories in it. 

~~~

ok that’s it for now. if anyone actually read all that, thank you for even wasting your time to process my ramblings. i’m sorry it’s so fucking long like jfc.

*who is mr. qi?

[mistyacorn]

you remind me of the main protagonist

sypnosis; dan heng and his odd way of saying “hey, i think i like you”

pairing(s); dan heng + fem! reader ⟿ featuring; pure fluff, really blank and super indirect dan heng, reader is compared to a female character (hence, fem! reader)

a/n; this was such a random write lol. im so sorry that it’s a bit of a mess, im still working on more clear storylines heheh . i hope it’s still enjoyable! ૮(ㅅ´ ˘ `) ♡ also i made beauty and the beast a canon fairytale here pffft u neva know

⇢ DAN HENG is the type that literally nobody expects to like anybody, and therefore neither do you.

⇢ you’d probably even think that he dislikes you because whenever it’s just the two of you he never says a word. he’s dead silent. he only ever nods or gestures and barely looks you in the eye.

⇢ occasionally you’d get slightly jealous of how he speaks whenever march is with you guys (even though they always end up fighting verbally, it’s still talking!)

⇢ so you eventually take it as a ‘hint’ and try your best to move on.

⇢ though let’s be real, it’s not easy to move on from a crush if you see him almost everyday. especially when he has the most perfect emerald eyes and soft black hair….

⇢ one day, you’re in your room on the astral express and you’ve just finished the book you had borrowed from the express library recently.

⇢ you did borrow it without telling anyone though, so it kinda felt like you stole it haha…

⇢ but you definitely did not want to annoy dan heng with your request so stealing borrowing seemed like the best option.

⇢ you decide to head over to his room, hoping to secretly drop the book and go.

⇢ thankfully the boy is not in the room when you get there (which is super rare, go you!). you tiptoe as carefully as you can towards the bookshelf.

⇢ you quickly find the correct slot and insert the book.

⇢ just as you think you’ve accomplished your mission, you turn around and-

⇢ at the door stands dan heng, staring at you nonchalantly (as per usual). “hi.”

⇢ his sudden appearance immediately causes you to begin a five minute long explanation about how you got there. (yes, five minutes. idk how but you drag it on and on) its mostly bullshit you’re spitting out.

⇢ “…pom pom told me that there was this super cool book…. I just had to read it of course …..and it was really cool yeah yeah ….um about robots and science and…stuff….”

⇢ does pom pom even read?? you didn’t know!

⇢ and you definitely don’t notice amidst your frantic stories, but dan heng listens to you attentively in amusement. he actually has the smallest grin on his face, very well knowing you are making everything up.

⇢ to put it simply, he finds it endearing. he’s almost in a trance, just listening to you talk and talk and talk…

⇢ after you finish your story time, he snaps out of it quick enough for you to not notice anything.

⇢ and you bow repeatedly in embarrassment before dashing out of the room.

⇢ the following day, dan heng suddenly gives you a book out of nowhere. today, his signature cold face seems slightly nervous instead, but you don’t pay attention.

⇢ you see that the book is a fairytale, one that is right up your alley!

⇢ ‘Beauty and the Beast’.

⇢ you open the book to see a post-it note on the first page, with neat handwriting on it;

‘y/n, I saw you liked fairytales and the fantasy genre. I do not. But I stumbled across this book yesterday, and I remember reading the first three chapters sometime when I was younger. It seems like something you’ll like. The main protagonist reminds me of you. I hope you’ll like it.’

⇢ your face is red hot as you read his note. he wrote to you. he thinks of you. he said you reminded him of a princess. (what the fvck.)

⇢ and secretly behind the scenes, dan heng is not as calm and collected as he seems.

⇢ after you put away the book and left that day, he took note of the book you had returned. fairytale…fantasy…

⇢ dan heng immediately started to think hard about any fantasy books he had read in his life. hours and hours of struggling later (he never reads fantasy, it’s too unrealistic for him), he finally remembers one.

⇢ he’d read the first few chapters of it before, and he remembers the main character all too clearly. she reminded him so much of you, yet he didn’t know why.

⇢ (truthfully, it was definitely because she was his first ever fictional crush. and now you were…… but he was never going to admit that to himself.)

⇢ he spends his night searching around the archives. 2am the next morning, he finds it.

⇢ dan heng goes to bed that night, heart thumping faster than usual, because now he realises just how much he likes you.

© mistyacorn do not plagiarize or repost please, just enjoy it ykwim

[lullabesstie]

Found this comment on Reddit. Couldn’t explain it better than this.

“It’s clear from Mist and Fury that the original ships were: Feysand, Nessian, Elucien, and Mor/Azriel. Like it’s so obvious the way she wrote Mor and Azriel; Mor even seems vaguely interested/torn about Az. Looking at interviews, SJM even talks about Elucien as a couple (eg where would they like to travel together, etc).

Flash forward to ACOWAR. For whatever reason (lack of chemistry with Az, wanting more diversity) SJM has Mor say that she prefers women. This time the Az-pining-for-Mor is more desperate/feels like a zero chance of being requited. SJM also introduces Az as a potential love interest for Elain because she loves throwing a wrench. Just because Elucien are mates doesn’t mean they’ll have it easy; SJM’s whole thing is angst. She had to throw in a love triangle to make it uncertain. This is the first couple where mate status is confirmed upon meeting.

But there’s a problem now. If Az and Mor are no longer endgame, who will they end up with? is it not suspicious that the two new characters introduced in SF (Gwyn and Emerie) just HAPPEN to be potentially be good partners for Az and Mor? Like it’s not a coincidence that Emerie looks at Mor and blushes, remarking how pretty she is. It’s not a coincidence that Az and Gwyn have so many interactions in the text. It’s not a coincidence that a “random side character” shows up in a bonus chapter.

When SJM created Gwyn and Emerie, it wasn’t just to give Nesta friends. These characters clearly didn’t exist when she wrote MAF. SJM wanted new characters that would solve her retcon of ending Az/Mor. She wanted to solve the Mor/Az retcon so bad that she created a NEW RETCON of Az going to Sangravah. Like why bother to add that detail if it’s not important.

Also: poor Lucien. His endgame heroine was supposed to be Nesta until SJM realized they would be terrible together and that Nessian had better chemistry. So she gives Elucien the mating bond. Like is she really going to fuck Lucien over TWICE? She loves him as a character and has put him through the wringer. Yes, I agree that SJM can change her mind and maybe is open to mate rejection, but Lucien has already switched love interests from Nesta to Elain! Who else is he going to switch to, considering that Jurian and Vassa are “at each other’s throats?”

Finally, please think about the number of books left. Ignoring novellas (which are probably gonna be fluffy ones like ACOFAS where nothing happens), there are two main books left. Two couples.

Option A:

• ⁠Gwynriel (Valkyrie growth, Illyrian rebellion, exploring Ramiel, Gwyn’s autumn heritage and maybe lightsinger?? powers)

• ⁠Elucien (Helion secret baby, defeating Koschei, freeing Vassa, fixing spring court)

Option B

• ⁠Elriel (mate rejection storyline, potentially some stuff above)

• ⁠?????

Literally WHO is the second book in this equation? Lucien and Vassa?? We barely know Vassa and there’s barely any connection to Night Court. And Lucien’s book is going to be depressing as fuck dealing with mate rejection; does anyone want to read two heavy books of rejection? Jurian and Vassa: again, we barely know them! At least with Tower of Dawn, Chaol had been a main character for a long time with POV. SJM will not do a full-length Emerie/Mor book as much as I would love for one. She’s very cognizant of criticism re: Mor bi rep in the past; she doesn’t want to open a can of worms and be accused of writing bad sapphic rep. If anything, I can see a fluffy Emerie/Mor novella with little angst (or them getting together in the background of other books).

So from a meta structural level, I don’t understand who the second couple will be if Elriel is endgame. Lucien/Vassa is the most plausible answer, but 1) we barely know Vassa, 2) she’s human and Lucien is immortal. So are we going to toss her into the Cauldron to make her immortal? Serious question, and 3) I don’t want TWO books about mate rejection, it’s depressing as hell. I can see one but not two.

But with Gwynriel and Elucien, you have enormous fan and audience interest in ALL FOUR CHARACTERS. They’re directly tied to Night Court and SJM so far has no intention of staying away from the core group.”

[kingshovelbug]

im sorry but i need to geek out somewhere and screaming into the void on tumblr is less likely to get me flayed than on twitter, especially if i get terms wrong. plus i can do a read more and yall can click into the tech talk if you want to verse it bombarding your twitter timelines

so idk if i only liked it or if i actually put it in my queue but i saw a post that talked about a few pieces of tech that focus on user repairs and being sustainable (fairphone and frameworks laptop) and after doing some more research into what they have to offer i actually really excited that these products are finely hitting the us market and that people are moving away from the belief that super smooth streamlined glassy = the future. being able to reliably repair and keep what you have alive verse throwing the whole thing away when maybe all you needed to do is add more ram to your current laptop (something that i would do with my laptop to keep using it for a few more years if it wasnt glued shut and i was at risk of cracking the screen) or swap out a fuse.

i know big corporations dont like it but i truly do believe with how much tech we use on a daily basis that the way that we are going to be more environmentally friendly is to move back to tech that we can hang onto for as long as we can and to recycle and then reuse what we cant. like with the frameworks laptop. i saw that they just partnered with coolermaster to create a case specifically so that you can reuse you motherboard, cpu, etc and make a portable workstation. you could dual wield with the laptop you just upgraded if you want to dedicate specific tasks to one or the other. they also specifically mentioned that you could screw it into the back of a monitor and create your own all in one. guys thats cool as shit??? if you had a 3d printer and some time you could even create that yourself

on top of the actual hardware part moving to open source programs when your able. when i update my desktop i plan on running linux. it might have a learning curve compared to windows but in terms of performance??? ive heard that it runs smoother even on older machines, that its more efficient because isnt running stuff in the background that tracks your data and shit. now i understand that not everyone can do that because there are some programs that dont play nice with linux but for my needs at least it does everything i would need it to. and maybe a couple years down the road we do figure out how to run these programs on certain flavors of linux since its open source and people fiddle with it so much. (still looking for alternatives to like word and excel though, i use google docs since its free but i want to move away from them as much as i can too since they laid of their youtube music team (i believe?? it might of been a different branch) for trying to unionize)

if anyone knows of any other smaller companies that actually focus on sustainability and user repairability please let me know. theres certain pieces of tech that i think are now unfortunately behind a software repair paywall, things that used to be just machines and are gaining more bells and whistles like cars and refrigerators if that makes sense. but the more we push for these things to be repairable by us the consumers id hope that would change, or there would at least be options that dont need specific companies to repair them or else they blow up

[actual-changeling]

And once more with feeling: Why there is no magic trick or gun to either of their heads in the final fifteen.

Before you immediately run to my comments or hit reblog, please read the entire thing. If you're still mad, either read it again or sit with it, do not make it my problem. Genuine questions and discussions are always welcome, comments that make it clear you did not understand a word I said aren't.

Okay? Okay.

With that, welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner, and today we are going to compare their first and last argument in the bookshop—they are, fundamentally, the same. It both sets the scene for their relationship this season and works as immaculate foreshadowing of how they part.

I compared the scripts, which you can find here. It's incredible that OP put all that work into creating these because otherwise I would have gone insane doing it myself.

Now, the setting: they have a problem.

In ep1 it is Gabriel, in ep6 it is technically still Gabriel, or rather his now empty position in heaven. They solved one problem and now they're forced to deal with another one he also caused; meanwhile he's drinking space margaritas.

Crowley, stuck in his trauma-induced hypervigilance and paranoia, suggest putting as much distance between them and the problem as possible. I think it is interesting that in ep1 he wants to get Gabriel away from them, while at the end of the season he is ready to get them away from the problem.

So far, I have never seen anyone mention that change! And it's important! The entire season, it is hammered into our heads how much they love being on earth. It is THEIR bookshop and THEIR car and THEIR life.

Crowley wants to protect that home, and Gabriel is a threat to it, a threat to both of them, their life, the bookshop—everything. He does not want to leave, he wants his peace and angel in one place.

Yet by allowing Gabriel to stay, Aziraphale destroyed the sense of comfort and safety Crowley slowly developed over the last few decades. Heaven nipping down every now and then to check in with Aziraphale is very different from him sheltering the Supreme Archangel who is running from 'something terrible' without even asking if he's alright with that.

Aziraphale calls it their bookshop, but he fundamentally still sees it as his space to govern and Crowley as a guest.

After another horrible week and having his previously safe space violated several different times and beings, Crowley is back to where he was before—without a home. That fragile existence broke apart, so he is standing in the heap of shards and telling Aziraphale 'I don't feel safe here anymore, let's leave'.

He lost his safe space, but he still has his safe person, his best and only friend, the person he loves. I doubt he cares where exactly they go as long as they're together and it's safe.

Returning to heaven—it is the one place Crowley cannot follow him to. It's literally the worst option, he can't go back, he won't go back. So he invokes the bookshop again, if you don't want to stay for me, stay for the bookshop, your books, your corner of existence that I thought we had carved out for ourselves.

'Nothing lasts forever' and 'you're at liberty to go' have the same underlying meaning—you're not welcome in this house anymore, it was your safe place, not anymore. Both times, he's essentially kicking him out.

Aziraphale then switches it up again!

Same manipulation tactic, first making Crowley feel rejected and unwelcome, then trying to pull him back in by promising and showing affection. He's desperate, he's attempting to get Crowley into his "saviour" role because he knows he has a hard time not saving him from whatever trouble he gets him into. Aziraphale knows him so damn well, and he uses that knowledge to get what he wants.

'If you won't, you won't' has the same implication as 'then there's nothing more to say'—I am ending that conversation, you can leave now, he even makes the same face both times.

In ep1, that's that, Crowley takes his emotions and leaves.

The lightning bolt is the kiss. A sudden, heavy discharge of pent-up feelings that has been a long time coming, but in the end he is more desperate, less controlled, at his emotional rock bottom. Everything he thought to be true about their relationship came crashing down around him.

In his mind, Aziraphale chose heaven over him—TWICE! First Gabriel, now Gabriel's position.

'You're on your own with this one' applies to both scenes, I think the reasoning behind that is pretty clear.

Now, some more verbal components and word meanings that I think are worth mentioning.

One of them is Crowley directly pointing out heaven's cruelties when Aziraphale is seemingly unaware of them, thinking of Gabriel/heaven as in in need of his 'help'.

I can take help him -> I can make a difference.

It is, fundamentally, the same argument.

Aziraphale feels like he is the one who needs to play saviour (that Crowley actually hates it but Aziraphale loves it is a post for another time), the one being who can help Gabriel/heaven and fix all the problems.

Crowley correctly points out that they do not care about him and are just as cruel—if not more—as hell, that Gabriel tried to destroy him, that heaven will destroy all of them.

Their responses to that just shoot past each other and it is what Crowley himself tells us. Two different exactlys

Aziraphale's -> I am the only one who can fix this, I feel responsible for this, help me fix this.

Crowley's -> This is dangerous, it can get us killed, we cannot fix this. Come and be safe with me.

'He needs us' becomes 'I need you'.

'I would love you to help me' becomes 'we can be together'.

In episode 1, the argument isn't 'final', as such. Crowley is exhausted, sad, feels rejected, but when he finds out just how much trouble Aziraphale is in, he needs to go back and help him. It's instinct, he couldn't live with himself if he knowingly let him walk into the knife—and yet in episode 6 that is exactly what Aziraphale forces him to do.

It is why Crowley brings up the nightingales, why he kisses him: that primal, love-based desperation. This argument is final, he won't be able to follow him to heaven no matter what, he won't be able to protect him.

He is on his own with this one.

In conclusion, THIS is why the argument that happened in the final fifteen is real, there's no trick, no nothing.

They have had the same argument before, probably over and over again. Same structure but with lower stakes, and eventually they reconciled.

This time the stakes are as high as they possibly can be, which lures their most primal, honest arguments out of them.

Aziraphale wants to fix heaven, wants to help, still believes that they are fundamentally good, that he can make a difference.

Crowley has lived the truth, has been trying to tell him for centuries, and he is exhausted. He wants safety. He wants peace. He wants the two of them in a peaceful, not-fragile corner of existence that no one else gets to break ever again.

Not a single line was 'out of character', this is exactly who they are, with all their layers stripped away and their fears exposed. It's not pretty to watch, it hurts, it makes you ache, and yet they and we know that this is how it has the end—the only way it was ever going to end.

That is what makes it tragic.

However, even after all of that, there is one step left: reconciliation.

Season 3 is going to give it to us, in whatever shape or form. Neil knows what he is doing, and we can trust him to give them the ending they deserve.

[writingseaslugs]

Octavinelle: When You're Sick

Favorite dorm here we go! This was fun to write and hmmmm I really wanna be taken care of by the Octrio. They can be good at it, I swear! As always, the intro is the same as Heartlabyul and Savanaclaw, so feel free to skip it if you’ve already read those parts.

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please click the “Au Information” below!

Request Information | Masterlist | Au Information

Octavinelle: When You’re Sick

The worst thing to ever happen to you while attending Night Raven College had to be, hands down, getting sick. You were alone in the dorm with only ghosts and Grim to keep you company, and as much as you loved them, they couldn’t take care of you when you became sick. This meant you had to make do and hope that everything was alright. Normally if you were under the weather, you’d just suck it up and go to class so as to not worry anyone. This time however, that wasn’t an option.

You woke up with every muscle in your body feeling sore and aching with even the slightest movement. Your stomach churned something fearsome and you had a runny nose and cough to boot. You had no idea what illness you had fallen to. Having so many symptoms…you could only assume it was the flu or something akin to that.

Still, there was no way you were making it to class like this. So begrudgingly you told Grim you weren’t feeling good and needed to rest, and to go to class and get your homework so you could do it later. The demon cat was grumpy about not having his henchman, but eventually gave in, leaving you alone to rest in your room and hope that whatever you had would go away.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is going to be concerned the moment he hears from Floyd and Jade that you’re home sick. He knows you tend to take care of others and neglect your own health, at least in the time he’s known you at the college, so he’s automatically assuming the worst. So he’s going to excuse himself from his own work at the lounge, pack up all his paperwork, and head over to your dorm. He needs to make sure his best customer, and sometimes best worker when you were strapped for cash, was okay and not actually dying, as Floyd so eloquently put it.

He’s not half bad at taking care of others oddly enough, though he is lacking in experience. It’s one of the many things he studied in his free time, so he at least knows what he’s doing. He’ll be calling the nurse anyway just to check in on you and make sure it’s nothing too serious. Once he gets that out of the way, he’s going to do his best in following directions and making sure you recover in the most timely manner possible.

Thankfully he does care for you, so he won’t be making any comments about how helping you out will come with a price later, like picking up shifts at the lounge. In fact, he’s very gentle with you and asks questions in a softer voice than normal. He even orders food from the lounge to be delivered so you can have something warm to eat that’s also delicious. He will be doing work on the side, especially the moment you fall asleep, so don’t be surprised if you wake up to pages turning.

Once you’re better it’s like a weight is lifted off his shoulders. He’ll be in a chipper mood as well, something the twins will notice right away. If you bring up wanting to repay him, he’ll just inform you that if he ever falls sick, you’ll be the one nursing him back to health. A good compromise in the end, and something you were already planning on doing for him.

Jade Leech

Jade won’t have too much of a reaction to finding out that you’re sick, other than a frown being placed on his lips. He finds out through Floyd when he’s complaining that his Shrimpy couldn’t come out and have fun since they were dying at home from some horrible, debilitating disease. Jade knows his brother is playing things up, but this does give Jade the little push he needs to go in and visit you to make sure you’re okay.

Thankfully Jade is one of the more competent boys when it comes to taking care of others. He’s already figured out exactly what was wrong with you and is grabbing some of the best medication from Sam’s, since the stuff the nurse has is “mediocre at best”. Since Jade is normally the one having to take care of Floyd when he’s sick, he knows all the things to do if you happen to be stubborn, especially with taking medication. 

He’s just very soft with you, showing you a genuine smile as you eat the soup he brings you, and playing with your hair. He doesn’t need to do much when taking care of you, trusting the medication to do all the work, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to want to leave your side. Just expect Floyd to be paying you a visit as well, even if you’re asleep, and waking you up. Where you have one twin, chances are you have both of them, but it’s all good since they’re both amazing at making you smile. Jade stays even after Floyd gets bored and heads back though, and he’s without a doubt skipping his shift at the lounge that night.

Jade is in a noticeably better mood once you’re better, but don’t be fooled. He’s going to be using this against you in an attempt to have you join him on one of his hikes. Saying something about the fresh air and moving your body will be good for you. He won’t force you, but he’s definitely going to be playing up that he’s so hurt if you decline. Just go with him, if you get tired the string bean of a man can and will carry you up a mountain.

Floyd Leech

Floyd doesn't even know how to react when he discovers you’re sick. He’s both mad and sad, all at the same time. People are going to be parting like the red sea the moment they see him walking down the hall with a scowl on his face. His shrimpy couldn’t possibly be sick, it wasn’t fair. He had so much planned to do with you today and now you couldn’t even leave your bed? He won’t stand for this and after pouting for half the day, Jade comments that he can simply visit you and maybe help you feel better. There goes the switch and suddenly Floyd is in an amazing mood as he ditches the rest of his classes and work just to go and visit you. 

Floyd isn’t half bad with taking care of others if he’s in the mood to do it. He is the one who takes care of Jade when he’s sick (which normally Jade gets sick right after Floyd). He’s not going to be talking to you in a super gentle voice, or babying you unless he finds it fun to do so. If you happen to get flustered by him doing so, then he’ll be more inclined to literally spoon feed you.

Floyd is just going to raid your medicine cabinets rather than going out anywhere, since it’s just the flu he assumes it’s not too bad. He’s also using your kitchen to cook you some meals and bringing them to you. He’ll be smiling brightly when you’re eating the food he made, and whenever you take the medicine. He feels so accomplished knowing that you’re getting better due to his efforts. There is a good chance he won’t be spending the entire day by your bed, since he’ll get bored, but he will be there on and off the entire time you’re sick.

You’re getting a good, healthy squeeze the moment you’re all better. Floyd is just over the moon and already telling you about all the things he has planned now that you’re no longer dying. Be nice and humor him, he has been going through a lot of emotions the entire time you’ve been sick. He just managed not to show you, but anytime he left the dorm, he was back to being grumpy and irritable, to suddenly depressed and closed off. He was really only smiling when taking care of you, so he deserves to squeeze you for a good while now that you’re no longer sick.

[writerpetals]

artificial heart | 🔞

; optional male lead smut |  ☁️

w: android!au

“He’s… a lot taller than I imagined.”

Your heart drums so hard in your chest the thumping reaches your ears as you stare at the machine before you. He's nothing like you imagined after being told you would be receiving an artificially intelligent assistant to handle your schedules, setting up meetings, endorsements, and interviews. You imagined something more… robotic, but the man that stands before you looks like nothing more than human, and you would believe him to be just that if it weren’t for the amount of money you spent on him.

“Yes, well, don’t be intimidated by his size,” Mr. Park, the owner of the company you purchased your new android assistant from, begins to tell you as he circles the robot, hands behind his back and a proud smile on his aged face. “He was made specifically for you to do whatever you wish as well as protect you and keep your best interest in mind. You’re an actress, yes?”

You can only blink as you stare at the android, taking in his soft expression, his eyes, hair pushed back and styled neatly to make a good first impression. Gulping, your eyes scan his jawline, down to his shoulders covered in the soft, silk dress shirt, tie, and suit jacket he adorns. He looks perfect. Too good to be true, if you’re being honest.

“Uh, yes. Yes sir, I am.”

Part of you wants to believe it’s not real, but the dent in your bank account and the fact that the perfect assistant (as promised by Mr. Park) is standing before you forces you to understand it’s real, and he was made just for you.

“This android here is capable of handling important meetings, setting up interviews, and booking endorsements. He knows thousands of recipes and can plan a proper diet if that’s what you wish, as well as different exercise routines programmed into his memory if you need them.” Mr. Park stops circling the android to stand at his side, patting him on the shoulder. The android flashes a soft smile that would be comforting to anyone that wasn’t aware of what he was. To you, it puts you on edge, wondering where is the flaw. How can he appear so perfect? “He can act like a bodyguard, designed to read situations and do what is in your best interest. He is also… a companion of different sorts.”

“What do you mean?” You step closer, furrowing your brow as you look between the two. “I thought he was only an assistant.”

“Well, yes. His first purpose is the protection of his companion, which is you.” Mr. Park offers a smile before your gaze shifts to your new android assistant, and he stares at you with his eyes shifting to white. Only for a moment do they flash bright, as if he’s trying to read the current situation to understand how you feel about him. “Second are the tasks you told us you wished him to complete when we were making the offer. Third is… a more personal relationship. Intimate, if you so wish.”

“That won’t be necessary,” you immediately object with a shake of your head, watching his eyes simmer back to the regular hue you were getting used to. “I just need a new assistant. Nothing more than that.”

“Very well.” Mr. Park claps his hands together and smiles wide. “I hope he is a good fit, but if you have problems or concerns don’t be afraid to get in contact with me. We took extra care in making him just for you, so we want to make sure it works out well for everyone.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Park.” You take his extended hand for a shake, smiling politely before turning back to him. He never took his eyes off of you, the same soft smile on his lips as he stands before you. You can’t calm your racing heart or the way your stomach does backflips.  “I hope it works as well.”

***

“You have a lovely home, Miss.”

He looks around the room to study his surroundings as he enters your condo, two bags of luggage in hand and a smile on his lips that begins to put you at ease. On the ride home, he offered to drive, surprising you that he could drive, but you declined, telling him you already had a car waiting on the two of you. It gave you time to get to know him a little better, though you weren’t sure if there was anything to know considering he is a brand new android.

Still, you tried your best to ease the tension between the two of you, even if you were the only one feeling uneasy and awkward. You asked him a few questions you don’t remember the answer to due to only being able to concentrate on the deepness of his voice. It surprised you the first time he spoke your name, figuring it was probably already registered in his program before you even met.

It has you curious of what else he knows about you, but you assume you will figure it all out in due time. For now, you need to adjust to having an android as an assistant while allowing him to adjust to living somewhere new and handling all the tasks you have for him.

“Thanks. It’s a little too big for just me,” you tell him as you guide him to the hall on the right to show him where he will be sleeping, “but maybe with you here now it won’t feel so lonely.”

“Well, my purpose is to do as you wish, whether it be handling your schedules or keeping you company.” When you enter the spare bedroom, he sets his bags down as a grin crosses his lips, causing your heart to skip a beat. “Whatever you need, I will do it.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” you tell him, hoping he can’t sense the way your voice wavers a bit from just his presence alone. Mr. Park assured you there’s no need to be intimidated, but with your heels off now, he looks much bigger than he did back at the company you purchased him from. He towers over you, causing you to wonder if you could have chosen a smaller height for your new assistant as well. “I’ll let you unpack your things and get settled in. If there’s anything you need, just let me know, okay?”

“Miss?” he calls for you as you begin to step out of the bedroom. “My task?”

“Huh?” You blink.

“What task would you like me to handle first?” He takes a step closer, folding his hands behind his back and you can’t miss the broadness of his chest as he does so.

“Well, I guess I haven’t thought that far ahead,” you tell him honestly as he chuckles just as a human would. Interesting, you think, wondering if his reactions are based on the fact that he wants to make you comfortable, or if he truly has a mind of his own and thinks of your remark as humorous. “For now, just settle in. Then we can go over my schedule and I can give you all the important information.”

“No need, Miss.” He waves his hand to dismiss any worries. “Your schedules for the next month have already been programmed in my memory, as well as contact information, important business numbers, and a meeting with your agent next Saturday.”

“Oh!” You perk up, smiling at the news though you are surprised he already has everything figured out. “Then I guess you can just make yourself at home.”

“Of course,” he says with a nod of his and his lips pressed in a thin line. Then his expression falls, as if he’s just remembered something. “Dinner is soon. Would you like me to prepare you a meal?”

You realize he’s going to do anything but take it easy for his first night. Of course, that is what he is programmed to do and you decide there’s no use fighting it.

“Sure,” you tell him with a sigh, “I would like that. Thank you.”

He smiles and nods his head. “My pleasure.”

***

“Dinner is ready, Miss.”

He finds you in your apartment’s office an hour and a half later, his voice pulling you from the script you have been reading over to prepare for your next role in a few months. With a smile, you nod before following him toward the dining room that rests between the living room and spacious kitchen. 

“I prepared a meal with the ingredients you already had,” he informs you, sliding out a lush dining chair for you to settle in. Laid out on the glass table is a plate of what appears to be chicken parmesan with a glass of red wine. The smell of the sauce hits your nose in an instant, steam rising from the plate and your stomach growls at the sight. You weren’t even aware you were so hungry, though most of your days lately have been spent diving into your work and not caring too much about meals, or anything else. You aren’t in a position to allow your mind to wander. Suddenly you’re thankful he is there to take care of things for you.

You imagine your last assistant went shopping just before being released if there were enough ingredients to make such a meal. Though it hasn’t been long since your old assistant has been gone, it feels as if it was forever ago since she was the one buying your food and tending to your schedules. She didn’t cook, however, so it’s a surprise he can offer such a service to you. 

“Is everything okay?” He pulls your attention from your thoughts of how things used to be. You glance up to see him eagerly awaiting your approval, so you smile at him with a nod of your head.

“Looks great. Thank you.”

“Of course, Miss.” He offers a gentle smile, just as any human would, and it catches you off guard for a moment. Of course, he was designed and programmed perfectly. He was made with you in mind and so everything he does is what is best for you. You didn’t expect to nearly forget he wasn’t human in moments like this, when he chuckles or smiles or reacts in such a way. “Is there anything else you need?”

Then his programmed responses remind you quickly. You think for a moment, then decide to offer him a seat next to you.

“Would you like to join me?” He blinks for a moment, surprised at the question. You chuckle as you grab your fork from its resting place on a folded cloth. “I know you can’t eat, obviously. But… would you keep me company?”

His expression softens before his smile returns. “Of course.” 

He slides into the seat opposite of you, his back straight and his hands folded in his lap. Now he looks more robotic than human, and you realize it’s going to take some getting used to. Though you remember Mr. Park telling you he will adjust even further the longer he is around real people. Maybe he needs time to pick up on little quirks and gestures of humans just to seem more real.

“I hope I am not out of line by asking,” he begins just as you take the first bite and nearly melt from the tastes bursting into your mouth, “what happened with your old assistant?” 

In an instant, you stop chewing, not expecting to be confronted with such a question so soon. You knew the reason for your old assistant leaving would arise eventually, however. Even if you just met him today, you want to be open and honest with him due to you expecting as much in return.

“I hope I didn’t offend you, Miss,” he begins again when you don’t offer a reply, lost in a whirlwind of your own thoughts once again. “It’s just with the short timeframe I was made, it would seem there was an urgency for my assistance.”

“You’re aware of that?” A crease in your brow forms as you ask. You wouldn’t have guessed him to pick up on his creation process, but he is right in the fact that it was a quick one. You even paid extra to receive him quicker than most. 

“I am aware of how I was made and the reason, yes.” He nods his head gently with a slight grin. 

“Oh, well…” For a moment you bite your lip, trying to get your thoughts in order. “I just needed a new assistant that would be focused and loyal. The old one didn’t work out.” You manage to get the jist of the reason out without too many details, and he nods in understanding. 

“I hope things work out for you this time,” he says as you take another bite of your food, relishing in the taste and deciding if you get meals like this every night, you hope so as well. “My focus is one hundred percent on you.”

You don’t want to acknowledge the way your heart flutters at his words, but you can’t deny it, either. You gulp down the bite in your mouth and force an awkward smile before taking a sip of your wine.

***

“Do you sleep?”

After dinner, he left you to your script while you left him to clean up. The two of you made small talk while you ate the rest of your meal, telling him about what you do as an actress and he listened with honest interest. You weren’t sure of too many questions to ask him since, well, he wasn’t made too long ago, but you left him with the hope of getting to at least feel as if you know him better. 

A little time passed and you grew too tired trying to memorize your lines. You began to get ready for sleep, doing your usual routine of taking off your make-up, cleaning your face, brushing your teeth and it wasn’t until you went to get undressed that you remembered to check on him. You found him tidying up things here and there, taking care of what he could manage until you pointed out something for him to do. He followed you to your bedroom, lingering by the door while you grabbed your night clothes out of a white, wooden chest on the other side of the room.

He smiles at the question you asked, as if it was almost silly of you to ask it. “I rest,” he tells you politely. He always responds in a calm manner, his voice soothing to your ears and though you don’t know him well at all, it makes you feel relaxed around him. “Until you have another task for me.”

You bite your lip while tossing the clothes you wish to change into over the silk sheets of your bed. “I have a few errands to run in the morning. Need to actually buy food instead of ordering take out every night.” Especially if he is cooking, you think to yourself. He smiles at your remark, as if he knows what you’re thinking. “I have to train for my next role as well. It’s an outdoorsy adventure type hiking through trails, so lots of cardio is needed.”

You chuckle as he nods and smiles. “What time would you like me to wake you?”

You hum, wondering why the thought of a personal android alarm clock excites you in the moment. “Seven?”

“I’ll see you as seven, Miss.”

He offers one last smile, reaching for the door handle, and shuts it behind him. You’re left wondering how you will manage to actually fall asleep with someone new in your home, but you were promised by Mr. Park he is harmless. You don’t doubt it with how you feel so comfortable around him, if only a bit curious and intrigued. Still, having such a drastic change so suddenly does make it more difficult to drift off to sleep. Eventually you manage with the thought of being woken up early by him in the morning.

***

He knocks softly on your bedroom door right on schedule. You blink a few times to adjust to the light spilling through the windows before stirring beneath the covers.

Five more minutes, you want to tell him, having had a harder time falling asleep the night before than you would have liked. With your mind spinning from thoughts of your new assistant, to your old one, to trying to adjust to life as it is now, you can’t really be blamed.

You also can’t stay in bed, you realize, as he knocks again and informs you it’s seven a.m. You assume you take too long to get out of bed or even answer him when you hear the twist of a handle before the door slowly opens. 

“Miss? Are you awake?” You hear his voice without seeing him, assuming he’s respecting your privacy while keeping your task of being your personal android alarm clock in mind. 

“Mm… unfortunately…” You never were a morning person, but you can blame long schedules, weird filming hours, and jet lag for that. Still, you try not to make the impression of a grumpy, diva actress as you clear your throat and slip out of bed. “Sorry. Yes, I’m awake.” You rub your eyes and blink a few times while finally adjusting to the morning sun. 

“Is it alright if I step in?” he asks, and you’re thankful of it. You wore warm, silky pajamas to sleep the night before, looking down at the pink and white pattern on your top and pants, and then shrugging to yourself.

“Sure,” is all you say, then you yawn and stretch your hands over your head. He steps in a second later, back straight, looking poised and proper. You take in his styled hair just the same as the day before, though he’s only wearing a white dress shirt and slacks today. You almost want to laugh to yourself at the image of “waking” from his rest and getting dressed in the morning, finding the thought of him as any other human quite humorous. You’re simply too sleepy to give it another second on your mind, however. 

“I have scheduled you a car to drive you to your preferred gym. It should be here in approximately thirty minutes. Would you like me to lay out appropriate attire for you?” 

As he talks, you make your way to the bathroom connected to your large master bedroom. Grabbing your toothbrush from the marble countertop, you turn the water on and begin freshening up while giving him a nod of approval. He hangs by the bathroom door, averting his eyes while turning his shoulder to you, but you can hear the polite smile in his voice.

“Great. Would you like me to begin preparing breakfast for you?” 

“Mhm,” you hum, mouth full of toothpaste and normally you wouldn’t let anyone see you in such a state, but you’re far too sleepy and your mind is exhausted from running wild the night before. 

“Okay. I’ll lay your clothes out on your bed for you,” is all he says before turning away to begin his tasks. 

By the time you’ve washed your face and pinned your hair up for your work-out, you can already smell the aroma of bacon seeping from the kitchen and filling the bedroom. Your stomach growls as you look over the gym pants and tank top he laid out for you. A smile springs to your face before you begin getting dressed, realizing that he would do any and everything you asked of him. Part of you feels less like an actress with an assistant and more like a spoiled child, but the sensible part tells you he’s just being thorough and doing his job. After all, he was made just for you to meet any need you could ever have. 

***

After a delicious breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast with a glass of orange juice, he leaves you to head to your work out with a long session of cardio while he stays in your apartment to clean up. You know you should feel at least a little uneasy with a stranger in your home while you aren’t there, human or not, but it comes easier than you imagined to be off on your own while he stays behind. He was made just for you, you keep telling yourself. Mr. Park has never had an unruly android sold to a client, or one that went off the rails as far as you knew. There’s no reason not to trust him. 

When your workout is finished, the car he called for you takes you back home, and you arrive just in time to spot him shuffling about and busy in the kitchen. For a moment you watch him, placing new ingredients in the cabinets and putting things away in the fridge and the bottom freezer drawer. When you let him know you’re home by asking where he got the groceries from (already assuming he had them delivered), he surprises you by telling you he went out and got them himself. 

He continues to surprise you in the following weeks. He cooks for you for every meal, and you admit you’ve gotten too spoiled too fast with the delicious food he prepares. He even had some of your favorite recipes programmed in him before he went home with you, preparing them with ease each night for dinner. He spends his days cleaning up and tidying when you are busy tucked away memorizing your script. You sometimes smell a few of your favorite aromas that remind you of home with your family when you were younger, realizing he lit a candle just to relax you while you worked. After work outs, he even offers to run you a bath, but you quickly decide that you can definitely manage on your own. Even if he does your laundry and readies your clothes in the morning, which is something no assistant has ever done for you before, you tell yourself there are still a few things you will always handle yourself, never wanting to feel helpless instead of just taken care of. 

Not to mention what comes as even more of a surprise is the way he grows on you, and your human characteristics begin to rub off on him. He picks up little quirks and gestures from being around you as well as all the people he comes into contact with while running errands for you. His expressions become more personal, realistic and it’s as if he loosens up a bit in the short time you’ve known him. He still remains proper with his calm tone and he is always professional with you, but he chuckles more and asks questions about your work, your past, and even sometimes the two of you have conversations about what you wish your future would be like. 

You grow to enjoy his company more than his help. Even in such a short time, you start to think of him as a friend. You tell him when you’re feeling stressed and the burden of work is too much to bear. He responds with a hot cup of tea and an ear for you to vent. It comes easier than you expected to talk to him. And he listens. Truly listens, hanging on to every word you say and you aren’t sure if it’s because he cares for you (if he can care for someone since he isn’t even human) or if he only wants to pick up on more things. Still, you decide it’s nice to have someone to confide in when you need it. 

His gentleness comes in handy the day you spot a vicious headline about yourself in a tabloid magazine. He and you were supposed to be out for the day as a way to take your mind off of work for a while after meetings with your agent and another script being sent in for a guest appearance on a TV show. He suggested it might help to get some fresh air, coming up with the idea to walk down to the coffee shop on the corner to clear your mind. He offered to order you a coffee and a strawberry pasty once you arrived, but you insisted you could manage yourself with a chuckle. 

Sometimes, you quickly realized, you just enjoyed his company. So you ordered your drink and food, sat in the corner of the shop after he took your coat from your shoulders, and talked for a while. You admitted it did help ease your mind and on the walk back to your apartment, you were feeling lighter, more at peace.

That was until you spotted the headline on a street newsstand. 

UP AND COMING ACTRESS STILL HEARTBROKEN OVER EX-FIANCE RUNNING AWAY WITH HER BEST FRIEND 

The words caught you off guard, only because for once after the entire painful ordeal, your mind was the furthest from your pain. Not to mention the picture they chose to include on the front page of the magazine. It was the furthest thing from flattering, a scumbag paparazzi having taken the shot a few weeks prior when you were out at a restaurant with a friend, spilling your heart out to leave cheeks stained with tears, and the entire thing seemed to break your heart all over again. 

“Is everything okay, Miss?” He asks when you finally arrive back home. In silence, he took your coat from you as you slipped your boots off at the door. The walk to your place wasn’t much better after seeing the headline. You fought back the tears. You pushed away the anger, but it was mostly due to you being mad at yourself for getting upset in the first place.

Things were getting better, you told yourself as you walked in silence next to him. I was getting better. 

“Uh, yeah, I-I’m fine,” is all you tell him, quickly rushing to your office to shut the door behind you. You don’t even move from the spot, knees feeling too weak while your head falls back against the wood panel. Your eyes close, but tears still manage to reach your cheeks. You don’t know if you’re hurting, or just angry, or maybe a mix of both. It only takes something so small to bring all the feelings rushing back. It just takes one stupid little headline to bring that night back to life, where you found out the man you were supposed to marry in only a month was sleeping with your old assistant, your best friend. 

Disgust rises in your chest because you thought you were over it. Insecurities and doubts suddenly fill your mind  because of course you blame yourself and now it becomes harder to breathe in the moment. The tears continue to fall. You clutch your stomach and slip to the ground, anger bubbling right along with it to have you a mess of confusion and not understanding the sudden overwhelming emotions flooding you. 

There’s a knock on the office door a moment later. Of course he would check up on you. It must have been surprising to him for you to suddenly be so cold, so out of it. 

“Miss? Are you okay?” His voice is gentle as it comes from the other side of the door. For a moment, you still can’t move, but you take a few deep breaths and try to wipe your eyes. You’re sure your mascara is running, so you give a few extra swipes with the sleeve of your sweater before crawling to your knees. 

Another deep breath and you’re on your feet. You pull the door open slowly, coming face to face with your android assistant looking more human than ever. His brow is wrinkled and there’s a deep blue hue in his eyes. For a second you’re taken aback. You’ve never seen his eyes shift to such colors before, blinking once, twice, and again to make sure you’re not imagining it. 

“Are you okay?” He steps closer, somehow his voice even softer, more gentle than before. Part of you wants to collapse in his arms, though it wouldn’t be appropriate. His demeanor would make it so easy, so comforting, the perfect shoulder to cry on.

But you try to toughen up and force a smile.

“Yeah, sorry… just… allergies.” The way he stares at you tells you how terrible you are at lying. For an actress that would normally say far more than you would like but who could blame you after having a panic attack. 

“Please tell me if something is troubling you.” He steps closer, confirming with words he doesn’t believe the horrible allergy lie. He places two large, gentle hands on your shoulders, thumbs massaging through your sweater. “I’m here to help no matter what it is.” 

For a moment you only look up at him. The tears fill your eyes once more, chest aching so much it leaves you nearly breathless. Before a single drop can hit your cheeks burning hot, you crash into his chest, collapsing into his embrace just like you wanted to do. “Oh…” 

He says nothing, only wrapping his arms around your body to hold you close. The warmth of his hold engulfs you as you cling tightly to his dress shirt. Tears fall to your cheeks and even soak into the fabric your head rests against, but he doesn’t let you go. He lets you feel how you need to feel, and he keeps you close. His hand begins to stroke your back, calming your cries and your body down from its overwhelming state. You push into him, allowing him to ease the burden, clinging to him to hold onto reality so your mind doesn’t drift too far away. 

A minute passes like this, wrapped up in his comforting warmth. Finally the tears stop falling, though your head begins to pound from the pressure. Your cheeks still burn hot and when you pull away from him, you quickly wipe them with the sleeve of your sweater once again. 

“I’m… sorry.” You sniffle and look away, never wanting him to see you like this. Never wanting anyone to see you like this, but how can that be when paparazzi takes pictures in your most vulnerable state and sells them to gossip magazines. 

“Please, don’t apologize,” he says, placing a gentle hand beneath your chin so you’ll look him in the eyes. There you spot a different hue, a flash of blue and then pink, finally settling on purple. A second or two passes before you realize they nearly had you in a trance, watching the waves of colors. It somehow comforts you in the moment, staring into his gentle eyes, feeling his warmth, his careful touch on your face. “Are you feeling better now?”

You can breathe, so it’s a start. You refrain from telling him that, however. Instead, a weak smile forms on your lips and you nod your head.

“Would you like to talk about it?” The question isn’t pushy and doesn’t pry. You know he would have no need for such things. It comes as a genuine concern for you, wanting to help and make you feel better just as he was designed to do. 

All you can do is wrinkle your brow and bite your lip as you keep your tears at bay, nodding your head to tell him yes. Gently, he guides you from your office to your living room to have a seat on the sofa. He sits close to you, without a word reaching to take your hand still trembling from your emotions in his own. Then you take a deep breath, trying to get your thoughts under control.

“I… saw a headline while we were walking home.” You pause, wanting to make sure the ache that was settled deep in your chest didn’t return. Of course, the feeling still lingers but as long as you can form the words, as long as you can breathe and speak without breaking down again, you want to keep going. “It was a stupid, dumb headline on a stupid, dumb magazine and I… I just didn’t expect to see it so suddenly. Not when I wasn’t thinking about it. Now when I… when I thought I was getting over it.”

“What was it about?” He never pulls his eyes away from you. Normally it would make you insecure. Even for an actress sometimes the thought of eyes on you constantly can be frightening, especially when you feel so weak, so vulnerable. As always, he puts you at ease. Everything he does is for you. 

“I…” You bite your lip, wanting to tell him, just not knowing where to start. You decide you should start from the beginning. “I had this guy… my… fiance.” The last word releases in a whisper, as if it’s poison on your tongue. It stings in your chest at the thought. The thought of giving your entire life to someone that could crush your heart so easily. 

“Oh?” he asks when you take too long of a pause. 

“We were all set to be married a month ago. We were supposed to be married now.” The images come flooding back, the memories filling your mind one by one. The thoughts of testing cakes and picking out a wedding dress with your mother and best friend arise and nausea sets in. “A few weeks before the wedding I-” You gulp, hard, swallowing the words because you know if you speak them the voice that comes out will sound nothing like your own. 

He gives a little squeeze of your hand, encouraging you to continue. He tells you without words he’s right there for you, whatever you need.

“I found out he was cheating on me.” For some reason, the words are a sudden blow to the chest followed by a weight from your shoulders all at the same time. You haven’t talked to many about your recent heartbreak, though you feel as if the world already knows everything thanks to “close sources” and nosy paparazzi. Though, telling him now feels as if it’s the one thing you needed to begin healing. You aren’t sure if it’s due to finally coming in check with the reality of what happened and how you feel, or if he is somehow so intent on helping you it suddenly makes you feel better about it all. You can’t seem to care either way. You’re thankful to him. 

“He was unfaithful to you as a companion.” You chuckle with tears welling in your eyes at him making sense of it. 

“That and a whole hell of a lot more.” Before you can wipe the drops that fall against your cheek, he reaches for you. His thumb brushes ever so lightly against your skin, ridding you of the tears and soothing you. “The person he decided to cheat on me with was also my old assistant. My… best friend.” 

The words sting just as much as the first time you found out. Not only did you have to face the reality of your fiance no longer wanting to be with you, you had to come to terms with being backstabbed by the one person you thought would always be there for you. If that wasn’t enough, the two of them came to you later, informing you they wanted to be together and you needed to find a new assistant. As if you would somehow approve of their relationship. As if somehow you could ever want your best friend to assist you anyway. 

In the end, you tried to convince yourself it was better this way. Better to find out before the wedding your ex was a total scumbag than after you were already married. It didn’t ease the pain any, and so you threw yourself into your work, studying scripts, signing another movie deal, pretending as if you weren’t completely shattered inside. Maybe it’s part of the reason you’re still taking things so hard, and something like a magazine headline could break your heart all over again.

“I am so sorry these people caused you so much pain.” His calm, yet deep tone brings you back to reality from your own thoughts. You look to him for the first time since you sat down, staring into the comforting eyes that shine a deep blue hue once again. He doesn’t say it, and you don’t question it, but it somehow feels as if he is heartbroken right along with you. There’s pain on his face, surprising you that for an android he has such a wide range of emotions. He feels for you in the moment, taking your heart ache right along with you, and something inside of you tells you he would take all the pain if he could. 

“Well, it was a while ago,” you tell him, shrugging and forcing a small laugh to fall from your lips. Not that long ago, you remind yourself, but you try to put on a strong face for him. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’m such a mess right now.” A strained smile forms on your lips, trying to ease the situation. His expression doesn’t change, however.

“Please don’t apologize,” is all he says, reaching to wipe the remaining tears from your cheeks. “Don’t ever feel ashamed of your emotions. You never have to hide them from me. I’m always here for you.” 

For a moment, you allow yourself to forget he is an android programmed to say the perfect things. For a moment, you tell yourself it’s all real, your feelings and his own. And for a moment, you allow him to comfort you not as an assistant, but someone that’s grown close to you in such a short time. You allow him to be your friend.

***

A few days after your panic attack and spilling your heart out to him, you begin to feel better. A weight was lifted off your chest when you were open and honest with him, allowing yourself to be vulnerable to the one person you are convinced could never hurt you. Well, the one android who could never hurt you. 

You’re suddenly okay with that thought. He isn’t human, but as the last few months have gone by, you started to lose faith humans were any better. You couldn’t imagine him running off with your next partner. The thought even leaves you giggling to yourself. 

Of course, good things don’t always last. One Sunday afternoon there’s a quick knock at your door, and your stomach feels heavy in an instant. Maybe it’s due to you always expecting things to go wrong when they seem right, but as your heavy feet carry you toward the door, your heart races while preparing for the worst.

The worst comes in the form of your ex-fiance’s sudden appearance at your home. He looks disheveled, longer hair than you remembered him having dangling in his eyes to almost cover the bags beneath them. Rough cheeks prove he hasn’t shaved in a while and his clothes, a simple t-shirt and jeans, look like anything but the normally put together dress shirts and slacks he wears. 

“Sweetheart,” he says casually, as if just months ago he didn’t rip your heart into pieces. “It’s so good to see you. You look beautiful.” 

You scoff. Normally you would be civil at the least, but just the sight of him draws back so many memories and feelings to the surface you didn’t want to deal with. 

“What are you doing here, Brody?” From your words with your icy tone, he steps back. Did he really expect a warm welcome? 

“I came to see you, sweetheart. It’s been too long and I…” He pauses, rubbing a hand behind his neck. “Well, I miss you, baby. I know things ended on bad terms, but I-”

“Bad terms?!” You don’t mean to, but your voice raises as you repeat his words. Anger bubbles in your chest to grow in your expression. You take a step forward, hands clenching into fists at your sides. “Bad terms? That’s what you call it?”

“Sweetheart, I-”

“Don’t call me that,” you interrupt, raising your chin proudly. You have too much respect for yourself to stand there and allow it. You may still have emotions you haven’t dealt with properly, but you won’t be a doormat. “Don’t call me anything. Just leave. I never, ever want to see you again, Brody.” 

“Baby, listen,” he continues, stepping inside your apartment and closing the door behind him. Your mouth falls open, deciding if you’re either two seconds away from calling security or slapping him in the face. Of course, you’ve never been the violent type and couldn’t actually see yourself hurting someone, but if anyone can bring it out in you, it’s him. 

“Brody, leave,” you repeat, tone more stern so he will get the hint. Even though, you realize, if he hasn’t gotten it by now, you aren’t sure what it will take. 

“Just listen to me, I-” His words fall short, and suddenly his eyes dart to something behind you. In an instant his expression switches from nothing short of pitiful to almost offended. He straightens his back and wrinkles his brow, and it takes one quick glance behind you to spot your android assistant and see why his entire demeanor has shifted. “Who the hell is that?”

“That’s my new assistant.” You aren’t even sure why you answered him. He doesn’t deserve any explanations from you, but you guess maybe you’re a little proud of the fact you have him. 

“Is everything okay, Miss?” He doesn’t hesitate to step behind you, so close you can feel the warmth of him on your back. When you turn to look at him, however, he isn’t looking down at you, but he is staring a hole into Brody. 

“Everything is fine. Brody was just leaving.”

Your ex’s eyes bounce between the two of you. Suddenly he’s at a loss for words. You guess he’s feeling intimidated by the android’s size, or maybe it’s just his cool, calm, and collected attitude that makes him even more mysterious to strangers. But soon that intimidation turns to jealousy and anger, not wanting to feel weak in the moment, wanting to make himself bigger than he really is.

“I see what’s going on,” he begins, chuckling darkly and shaking his head. “You found someone new to fuck so you don’t need be anymore.”

You want to laugh at the ridiculous accusation, but you refrain. “Sure, that’s it,” is all you say with a roll of your eyes. A part of you wonders how you could have married someone like that, but jealousy is the ugliest trait. You decide you don’t care what he thinks. He’s no one to you anymore, and you only want to get rid of him. “Leave, Brody.”

His gaze switches between the two of you for a few seconds later, nostrils flaring, jaw clenched. For a split-second you’re worried he will lash out even more, but all he does is huff, shake his head, and turn around to leave with a slam of your door. 

Finally you let out the breath you were holding. Turning to your assitant, you notice the ice cold expression he was giving Brody suddenly softened. His eyes fell to his usual color, easing the tension in the room as you looked into them. 

“I’m so sorry.” You shake your head while sighing. “God, he’s such an asshole.”

“Are you alright?” He leans closer, placing his hands on your shoulders as if to inspect you. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just…” You take a huge breath to exhale in a puff. You hate how worked up he can get you. Even after not seeing him for so long, all the old memories mixing with the anger to spiral into tense aggravation has you on edge. “I can’t stand what he does to me. How upset he can still make me.” You bite your lip, harder than usual, as your brows furrow and your foot taps eagerly on the wooden floors.

“May I suggest a method of calming you down?” he offers. “I want to help you relax.”

You ponder the thought, then eventually give in with your shoulders slumped. “What do you have in mind?”

“A massage. To ease the tension in your body and stress you’re currently under.” The suggestion has warmth blossoming inside of you. Such acts have never came up in the time he’s been with you. Though, you’ve never had to deal with your ex before, either. You do recall Mr. Park saying he could read situations and come up with solutions to help you. 

Though, the thought of him touching you makes you feel… well, you aren’t really sure. Of course you feel safe with him. You’re convinced he could never hurt you, and would never be inappropriate with you. Everything he has done from the moment you got him has been professional, kind, and courteous. Still, a massage seems so personal. So intimate. 

“Just your shoulders, Miss.” You assume you’ve been lost in thought for too long. “I won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with. I just want to help you.”

“Oh, I know.” You chuckle more to yourself than to him. “I trust you. I really do, I just… you know what? Okay!” What the hell, you tell yourself. How many people get the opportunity to get a skilled massage from an android? Considering all the programming he has with cooking, you’re sure his knowledge in massages can’t be far behind. 

A smile forms on his lips. “Great. Why don’t you get undressed and get ready for me on the bed. I’ll get a few oils and lotions I have.”

Your eyes grow wide. “Undressed?” You assumed it would be a simple massage. Nothing is simple with him, you think. Of course he would want to do it the proper way. As if you were getting a professional massage at a spa, something you have done hundreds of times. It’s no different with him. 

He raises a brow. “Would you like to keep your clothes on?” 

“No, it’s okay.” You quickly nod and smile. 

“Okay, I’ll grab a towel for you so you can cover yourself.”

With a nod, he’s off grabbing a fresh towel from the linen closet and you’re making your way to your room. Before he grabs his oils from his own room, he knocks gently on the door before passing off the towel to you, making sure not to step in too far in case it would make you uncomfortable. Then he steps away to give you privacy, and you begin stripping down to nothing but your panties. There’s no need to take them off, of course, and you wrap the towel around you while waiting for him to return.

“Are you ready, Miss?” you hear his voice through the door, and all you can manage is a hum of ‘mhm’ before he steps inside the bedroom. “You can lay down, if you’re ready.”

He remains calm and professional, but your heart feels as if it will beat right through your chest. Relax, you tell yourself, it’s just a massage… I’ve had hundreds of them. None by any androids, however. None by him.

The thought sends your body reeling. Warmth builds in your chest, feeling the jittery nerves of excitement and anticipation mixed with the heart racing insecurity. You tell yourself to get it together, it’s no big deal. Part of you wants to believe it, but as you lay down on your stomach in nothing but your towel with panties underneath, you know it’s a new experience for the both of you. 

“I’m going to use a calming oil that will relax your muscles. It’s lavender scented. I hope you enjoy it.” He talks as you hear the sound of him rubbing the oil in his large palms, and there’s no doubt inside of you that you will enjoy it. That’s what has you on edge. “I’m going to begin with your shoulders now, is that okay?”

Your heart flutters in the way he asks permission. He is always taking care of you, making sure you’re comfortable.

“Mhm,” you hum, scared if you actually speak your voice will be unsteady as it falls from your lips. A few seconds later, you feel his hands on your body. His palms press so gently against your shoulder blades as his fingers ghost over the sides of your neck you want to melt right into the mattress. He takes his time, easing you into the moment by caressing your skin, and when he hears the softest whimper leave your lips, he deepens his touch.

God, you think, his hands are so warm. So big and warm and touching you. You feel like a silly little girl for even caring, but his touch is so gentle, so careful and soft for a robot that can be so intimidating. He works the tension out of your shoulders, easing you into a relaxed state of bliss as your eyes begin to flutter. He takes his time and your body has his full attention. You feel him caress your shoulder blades, the sides of your neck, even a little farther down until you decide you don’t care at all where his hands go, you just want him to touch you. 

You call for him, voice so airy and light with his name you almost didn’t recognize it.

“Yes?” he replies, not taking his attention away from his task. 

“You’re so… gentle.” You giggle to yourself, suddenly on a natural high from feeling so at ease. It’s clear you haven’t felt so relaxed in months. “I didn’t expect it.”

“You expected something different?”

“Well, no,” you say, chuckling again, then whimpering when he begins working down your back. You hate to acknowledge the way your body reacts to him. You can feel your nipples hardening from his touch, pressing into the silk sheet beneath you to add even more friction. Your body is so hot beneath his hands, so worked up you begin to form an ache between your legs. You’re sure if you were to check, there would be a darkened spot on your panties from your arousal. Your cheeks burn at the thought, embarrassment flooding you all at once before it’s replaced by need from the tender way he touches you, but you can’t help it. His hands feel too good. It’s been too long since you’ve even been this personal with someone. “I guess I never expected you to be so… so careful. I’ve never… never been touched like this.”

“Does it feel good?”

You swear you think you heard a darker hint to his tone as he asked, sending a wave of heat through your body bursting from your core. You gulp, trying not to let the thoughts overwhelm you as he deepens the massage, his large, skilled hands working over every inch of your back.

“Y-Yes,” you whisper, then you bite your lip to keep yourself from making any more noises. You shut your eyes tight, but that doesn’t help, either. Instantly images of him pop into your mind, him going further, him touching you in different places. 

You try to shake them from your head, but the longer he touches you, the worse it gets. You can just imagine his hands if you were on your back, massaging your breasts, toying with your hardened nipples by rolling the erect bed against his fingers. His gentle, careful hands would ease down your stomach, slip deep into your panties to feel how wet you’ve grown for him. Would he like it? You aren’t sure, but you can’t imagine him disappointing you if just his back massages feel this good. 

You can only imagine what he could do between your thighs. Stroking your slit, teasing your clit, easing his long fingers inside your dripping heat to make you come against his hand.

Instantly it’s too much. You push the thoughts from your head before beginning to stir on the bed.

“I’m feeling better!” Carefully, you pull the towel up to cover your breasts before you stand. Your face is burning hot, body feeling so weak with need you suddenly feel lightheaded. 

“Is everything okay?” Concern strikes his features. “Did I do something wrong? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

No, you want to tell him, my own thoughts made me uncomfortable. God, how could you get carried away like that? It was only a simple massage. How could you start having a full-blown fantasy of your assistant? He’s not even human.

“You’re fine. I am feeling much better now, thank you.” 

He hesitates like he doesn’t believe you. But you’re sure he can sense you’re trying to convince him anyway. He doesn't push any further and you’re grateful.

“I’m glad you feel better, Miss.” He nods and steps back. “How about I get dinner started for you?”

“That would be great, thank you.” You can barely look at him as he walks out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Once you’re alone, guilt instantly weighs heavy in your chest. You hate yourself for allowing your imagination to run wild. How could you think such things of him, especially when he has always been kind and professional? The question runs through your mind again and again, and you have no answer. You only know you don’t want him to get so close and personal again. 

***

For a while after the massage from him, you keep any and all physical contact at bay if only to keep your own emotions in check. Even if you still feel safe and comfortable around him, knowing he would never do anything to bring you harm, you suddenly don’t trust yourself as much.

As the days pass, even if you keep your distance, you can’t help but to notice him more. You catch yourself staring when you think he doesn’t pay attention, realizing just how handsome he is. Of course, you knew that from the beginning, but it’s different somehow. As if when you look at him, you completely melt on the inside. His laugh has become all the more human, all the more real, and it has warmth blossoming in your chest when you hear it. Just being around him puts you in the best mood, and your troubles before with your ex-fiance and old assistant seem like such a distant memory. 

It makes getting back to work easier, knowing he will always be there for you right by your side. You feel secure as long as he’s close by, and you even brought him to a party the director of the last movie you starred in was throwing. You decided to bring him as your unofficial date, even though only the two of you knew about it. To anyone else, he was just your assistant, but to you, you brought him along as a friend and someone to look out for you. 

You dressed up in your favorite black, sparkly cocktail dress, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw him ready to go in his 3 piece suit and his hair combed back and styled perfectly. For a moment, you could only stare, suddenly feeling warm from how good he looked, and you couldn’t help but feel prideful in the fact that he was yours.

Your assistant, you quickly reminded yourself, shaking any other thoughts from your head as the two of you made your way to the party. Once you arrived, the lavish room of his home completely decorated with golden balloons, streamers, a table with expensive treats and his very own bartender to make you wide-eyed, the director pulled you away to gossip with this new actor and that one. You tried to be polite and make acquaintances, shaking hands and getting kissed on the cheek, but really all you wanted to do was know where your android was. It took a few glances around the room to spot him close by, keeping an eye on you as you politely downed another drink someone shoved in your hand and carried on the conversation with a chuckle here and there. You felt as if the room was spinning in no time, though that’s how these parties usually went. You were never one for this side of the business, but of course to get gigs you had to show up with a friendly face and make nice. 

So you chatted some more with people you barely knew, always looking every once and a while to make sure he was close by. At one point, you turned to notice a few drunken d-list actresses clinging to him, and you could only imagine the conversation.

Thought it didn’t bother you. Once you met his eyes, he gave you a reassuring look to let you know his focus was on you, and you went back to listening to a boring actor talk about the last movie he worked on. You really didn’t care, but thankfully you had alcohol to make it seem like you did.

“So, like I was saying,” he begins again after finishing his shot, “I was on set with two tigers, and they warned me not to get too close, but I was like “Hey, I’m me!” and did it anyway, and then…”

His words drowned out. He has to possibly be the most boring, conceited actor you have ever met. He should get an award about having a story with tigers and you somehow still want to fall asleep listening. But you smile and nod, just like you are used to doing. By now, your face burns hot from the alcohol, feeling a little drained and ready to get out of the dress and heels. 

“...so what do you say, sweetheart?” Your attention turns back to the man before you, watching him flick his hair from his eyes and sport a cheesy smile. “Wanna get out of here?” He reaches to place a hand on your shoulder, giving it a little squeeze with a lick of his lips.

Before you can tell him absolutely not, your assistant appears before you, his big body stepping in the way of the actor to block his view of you.

“Let’s go,” he says in a whisper, but you’re curious and the alcohol is causing a bit of confusion with you. Though, his stern tone makes your heart skip a beat, wondering if he knows something you don’t. “Please, come with me now.”

“Hey, we’re talking here…” The actor tries to shove him by his shoulder to get him out of the way, but your android assistant doesn’t even budge an inch. It was like a child trying to move a fridge, which irritated the man further. “Did you hear me?” The actor comes to his side, and you assume this can’t be good. He’s probably had too much alcohol and the last thing you want is to cause a commotion in the director’s home.

“This is my assistant,” you quickly tell him with a giggle. He finally acknowledges the actor, and for a moment you notice the shift in his eyes. The hues switch from a soft hue you’re used to into a fiery red in seconds.

“Oh…” It’s clear the man noticed the androi’s eyes, taking a step back. “Oh, your assistant is one of those.”

It’s not unheard of for androids to take on everyday roles now. They came into the limelight just a few years ago, and it seems every other person has one. The actor’s surprise of him shouldn’t come as a shock, but the tone in which he addresses him fills you with irritation.

“Funny,” he begins, becoming bold knowing the androids don’t have any violent tendencies. Well, as far as this guy knows, but you don’t doubt he would go to great lengths to protect you. “I thought it was supposed to take orders from you, not the other way around.”

The last thing you want is to put him in such a situation, however. You quickly apologize to the boring actor before your assistant guides you out of the party, already having called a car to pick the two of you up. 

You call for him after slipping into the backseat of the black limo and feeling the car pull away to head home. The solid black partition was already raised, giving the two of you privacy. “What was that about? Why did you want to leave in such a hurry?”

“I noticed a shift in his tone and body language.” He says, turning to you with his soft eyes once again. Though his tone hasn’t eased any, and you wonder if the man inside the party somehow got to him. “He had impure motivations with you, Miss. I felt it was my duty to get you somewhere safe.”

Suddenly you burst into a fit of drunken giggles. “Is that all?” For some reason, you can’t stop laughing. He remains confused, brow wrinkling as his eyes flash between the normal hue and white, as if he were trying to understand what was so funny. “Most of the men there have those intentions. Not like they had a chance, anyway.”

“I wanted to make sure you were safe. You were intoxicated and your judgments could have been impaired.”

As he speaks, your laughter settles. “Oh well,” you sigh, getting more comfortable in your seat while drunkenly resting your head on his shoulder. Your eyes close, listening to the hum of the engine mixing with the tires on the road, suddenly so sleepy. “I was growing bored. My feet hurt.”

“Would you like a massage?”

If you didn’t drink so much, just the mention of the word massage would have made you a mumbling mess thanks to the last time he performed such an act on you. But you are too drunk to care, and too comfortable to move as you lay against him. 

“No, thank you,” you tell him, snuggling closer and resting your arm around his stomach. “Will you hold me instead? Just until we get home?” Though it’s breaking your rule of no physical contact, you grow awfully needy when you’ve been drinking. Not to mention how warm he always is. It nearly puts you to sleep just laying beside him, and even more so when you feel a strong arm wrap around your body. He holds you close without hesitation as the two of you ride home in silence. 

When you stumble inside your apartment, he helps you take off your heels at the door. Your hands fall to his shoulders to keep from being so wobbly, and he is gentle as he slips each one off with a grip on your calf. Before he stands, he looks up at you, his eyes meeting your eyes to see a soft, pink glow.

“How are you feeling?” The question makes your heart burst with warmth. He is always so attentive, so careful of you and what you need. He always says the perfect things at the right time, always checking in to make sure you’re comfortable. 

“I-I’m okay,” is all you can manage, watching a smile form on his lips. 

“Want me to help you to bed?”

You hesitate for a moment. That would also be breaking the rule of no physical contact, but you’re still feeling the effects of the alcohol and nothing sounds better than being taken care of in the moment. All you can do is give a quick nod and he’s rising to his feet. He takes your hand in his own, guiding you to your bedroom.

Once inside, he steps toward your bathroom to leave you lingering by your bed, the pillows and sheets looking ever so inviting in the moment. Then he returns, a few fresh make-up wipes in his hand. You almost want to laugh because of course he’s thought of everything, but all you can do is smile at him. Tenderly, he begins swiping the wipes over your face, cleaning the foundation and eye shadow, and even taking extra care going over your lashes. Once again, he’s as gentle as ever, taking his time to do it properly. It’s hard not to think about the fact that you’ve never even had a boyfriend so attentive. It’s easy to feel spoiled with him. It’s even easier when you’ve been drinking. You allow him to pamper you for a moment, clearing away the make-up and when he’s done, he steps behind you to tug on the zipper to your dress.

You call for him, feeling hot beneath his focused gaze.

“Yes?” He pulls his hands back, waiting on your voice to guide him.

“I think… I think I’ve got it from here.” You don’t know why it was almost difficult to tell him to stop. Maybe because part of you wants to see how far he will go, what lengths will he reach to please you. The other part is scared, but not of him. You’re scared of your own feelings, and your own heart, knowing how someone like you, once so broken and alone, could begin to fall for someone like him. 

You don’t give yourself the chance.

“Goodnight, Miss,” is all he says, offering a smile before stepping out of your bedroom and shutting the door behind him.

***

They say when it rains, it pours, but they don’t tell you that there are moments of sunlight between the storms. You feel as if that’s what the past year has been for you. From finding out your ex-fiance was cheating on you with your best friend, you went into a spiral of overwhelming workloads to take your mind off of it. Then you met him, feeling as if there was a little hope for you to get your life back on track with having someone to actually assist and be there for you. 

From tabloid headlines to bring all the memories back to finding comfort in his arms, all the way to feeling as if the storm was finally over just to be reminded of it all with a visit from your ex. In one way or another, life remains a rollercoaster for you, and now that you’ve had too many good days, the storm begins to roll in once again.

“I just can’t believe she could ask me that!” You pace back and forth in your living room, seething, on the verge of tears once again due to your past. Funny how you can hurt so much and it’s not even your fault. “She sat there and just said it! Flat out asked me how I feel about them getting engaged!”

He remains quiet, allowing you to pace, and vent, and do whatever you need to do, as long as you remain safe. He is settled on the couch, watching you stomp around in a circle, throwing your hands up in the air. It’s almost as if you’re having a conversation with yourself, but it’s not like you’re giving him much chance to speak, anyway.

“I spent months filming a movie and working my ass off only for them to want to bring up the fact that my ex-douche of a fiance cheated on me with my best friend and now they’re getting married.” 

You huff, and groan, and eventually you fall next to him on the sofa. He says nothing, waiting until the time is right to speak, so you begin talking to yourself once again.

“Not to mention I no longer have the two people I was closest with in my life. I feel so alone sometimes even though it feels as if the whole world is looking in on my personal life and having opinions!” Leaning forward, your head crashes into your hands. “I thought at least the interviews and the press would take my mind off of it, but how could it when they only want to mention the one thing that absolutely crushed my heart. And you know what… it’s not even like I care! Let them get married. Whatever! But why is that all anyone wants to talk about? Why is that all anything everyone thinks of when they think of me? They are the ones that fucked up and I am the only one facing the consequences of it.” 

Finally, it all comes crashing down at once. You realize how exhausting venting is, crumbling into the cushions to bury your head like a child. The tears well into your eyes, but you don’t dare let them fall. Not anymore. You’re too tired of crying over them. And it’s true, you don’t care they are getting married. You’re only upset that it keeps haunting you and not allowing you to move on. Not to mention how you felt like an idiot having to sit there and smile through the interview, letting the hosts get away with nosy questions they shouldn’t have asked in the first place. 

“I’m sorry,” you finally say, pulling yourself from the pile of cushions and turning to face him. “I didn’t mean to freak out on you. I just… well, I don’t have anyone but you.” 

“There’s no need to apologize, Miss.” He reaches to take your hand in his. “Your comfort is my top priority and as I understand it this ex-douche and your old assistant continue to cause you distress.” 

You can’t help but to chuckle at him repeating your newfound nickname for your ex-fiance. He truly does know all the right things to say, even if it’s by accident. 

“How about I run a hot bath to help you relax?” 

At first you want to disagree and tell him that’s not necessary, but the idea of soaking your tense muscles in steaming water really does sound appealing. After a moment, you agree, and he is off to start running the water after telling you to wait just a moment. You remain settled on the couch, minutes passing until you hear him entering the living room once again.

“It’s ready,” is all he says before you rise to your feet and he guides you to the bathroom in the hall with a large jacuzzi tub. The smell of vanilla enters your nose in an instant, realizing he has dimmed the lights before placing a few candles around the bathroom. The water still runs gently into the tub, continuing to fill up while waiting on you. There’s a clean town ready for you on the side, along with a washcloth, and a fresh change of clothes for when you’re done. 

“I added some drops of relaxing oils to the water. They should help sooth your muscles and make your skin feel soft.”

He’s thought of everything, you think, grinning to yourself. “You did all this just to help me?” He nods, flashing a bright smile you suddenly can’t seem to keep your eyes off of. You don’t remember ever seeing him grin so wide, as if he were proud of himself. The sight of it melts your heart. 

“I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.” 

“Thank you.” You smile in return, heart fluttering while feeling weak in the knees. 

“Of course. It’s my pleasure. Would you like me to help you undress?” 

Your eyes grow wide for a moment. Of course your first instinct is to shy away from him and tell him no. Though suddenly something deep within you is tempted to say yes. Maybe it’s the frustration you’re feeling, so tired of all the bad news, the heartache, the sudden emotions that come bursting to the surface. Maybe it’s in the way he always puts you at ease, and you just don’t want to be alone in the moment.  

“If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll leave you be. Just know that I only want to help.” You hesitate for a moment longer, flipping back and forth between saying no, and begging him not to go, not to leave you. Eventually, the need to have him stay outweighs everything. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, you tell yourself. He’s there to help. 

“I would like that.” Your voice seems so small in the moment, so shy and insecure at him helping you. He understands your hesitation, not daring to move too fast or too sudden as he reaches for you. He begins with the buttons of your blouse, plucking them slowly one by one while you look anywhere but at his hands working.

“Your smile earlier,” you suddenly say, maybe out of nerves as he undresses you, trying to think of anything else in the moment but how the butterflies in your stomach are fluttering like crazy. “Sometimes it’s so human... I guess that was the first time you’ve smiled like that.” 

Your heart races as he grins wider, as if to show off the proud, human smile you’re talking about.

“I hear it eases humans and they find kind smiles attractive,” he replies. “Do you?” 

Suddenly, you feel as if your heart will beat right out of your chest. There’s a playful tone in question. Was this an android’s attempt at flirting with you? “Well, yeah of course.” Then you chuckle, shying away from him with a bite of your lip. “You look so believable, yet unbelievable sometimes. Everything about you is so real. Sometimes I forget…” 

“I’m not human?” 

“Yeah…” 

“I was made just for you. To make you comfortable and assist you. All of my features were designed specifically with your satisfaction in mind, even down to the smallest detail. Do you want to touch?” 

Your eyes grow wide for a moment when you turn to look at him just as he peels back your shirt from your shoulders, leaving you in your skirt and silky, black bra. 

“Touch?” You gulp, feeling so exposed, so hot under his gaze but not wanting to stop. The thumping of your heartbeat reaches your ears, already on edge, feeling jittery from the nerves, but you can’t imagine what will happen if he doesn’t continue.

“Yes,” is all he says, “you can touch me if you would like.” 

You never thought about touching him, only what it would feel like if he touched you, but now you can’t turn down the opportunity. As you think it over, he eases your skirt down your hips to fall to your feet a few seconds before you finally reach out to brush the tips of your fingers over his cheek. In an instant his eyes flash, first white, then a pretty, pale pink, before settling back to the usual hue. 

“Your eyes,” you comment. “They change colors sometimes.” 

“Ah, yes,” he begins with a grin, “it’s how I show a response to certain situations. It’s the only way I can communicate without purpose, or to put it simply, a natural reaction to what is happening.” 

“So… the pink? Is from…” 

“Your touch.” 

Your breath catches in your throat. You don’t want to get your hopes up that it means more than it actually does, but you can’t help it. You’ve seen his eyes a natural color, deep blue when he comforts you, even red when getting between you and the drunk actor at the party. All the way down to white when he is thinking something over, but pink…

Pink is for when the two of you are close. When he takes care of you. When he touches you. And now, when you touch him. 

Your fingers continue to graze over his flesh, soft and clean and feeling so pure, before your thumb moves to his mouth. You feel the warmth of his bottom lip, the fullness and the way you move effortlessly over his faux flesh. As you touch, you notice the tiny pores beneath his lip. It’s such a small detail but it makes him so much more human. A perfect little imperfection and suddenly there’s warmth blossoming in your chest. 

He’s perfect in every way. You feel like you don’t deserve him, but you don’t want him with anyone else, either. 

“Would you like me to continue?” he asks, and then you realize you’re in nothing but your bra and panties. The tub is almost full by now, so before you respond, he reaches behind you to twist the faucet and turn the water off. You peek into the tub, seeing the steam rising to carry the scent of the vanilla candles on the counter through the entire room and out into the hall. 

“Yes,” you quickly say before you lose the courage. It’s not even like you to be so shy in front of men, having been more than confident in the bedroom. But he is no ordinary man. He’s no man at all. He’s perfect, and he’s yours. 

Without a word, he steps behind you to tug at the clasp of your bra. Gently, he allows the straps to fall from your shoulder before the fabric to the floor. You’re curious of his next move. Will he try to look at you? Try to touch?

He does neither. Instead he carefully tugs at the straps to your panties, slipping the thin fabric down your legs to pool at your feet. You’re completely bare in front of him, exposed, vulnerable.

Yet for the first time in a while, you don’t feel the need to shy away. Your heart is still racing, of course, and your knees feel weak, but the doubts and insecurities have turned to thrill. It’s exhilarating being in front of him like this. So carefree and open, he takes your mind off of your worries. 

He steps in front of you a moment later. Your eyes meet his, but suddenly they no longer shine the pink hue you were getting used to. Now they’re red. A deep red, reminding you of passion and longing. Your heart skips a beat. Could he really be feeling attraction to you?

“Ready to step in, Miss?” he asks, keeping his cool, calm, collected aura though his eyes tell a different story. 

You blink a few times just to make sure you’re not imagining it. “Your eyes…”

All he can do is look right back at you. As if he has no explanation for it himself, and maybe it’s better that way. Though it does leave you curious, and soon that curiosity turns to longing. There’s something igniting within the both of you, even if it doesn’t make sense. There’s no way he could feel anything for you, right?

In a sudden moment of boldness, you find yourself leaning closer, reaching for him, gripping his dress shirt tight in your fingers. You want to feel him near you, feel his soft skin against your own, those perfect lips against your flesh. Without thinking, you close your eyes, pressing your mouth to his, the softness of his skin heating you up, making you whimper against him. You linger for a moment, deciding you could die right then and there and it would be nothing but pure bliss. He’s warm against the kiss and you deepen the gesture by leaning into him. He accepts you, finally placing his hands on your bare hips and you can’t even think of being naked in front of him in the moment. All you can think of is how you have wanted to do this for far longer than you would like to admit.

When you pull away, you’re gasping for breath. Reality quickly sets in as a wave of embarrassment floods you, cheeks burning hot and now you’re too shy to look at him. 

But when you do look at him, you’re stunned in silence. His eyes flash between different colors, white, pink and red. There’s bursts of purple and then they turn yellow, back to white, and then settle. It’s as if he’s overwhelmed and it’s the only way he can let you know, truly know, and your heart races beyond belief at the sight.

“I-I’m ready… ready now…” It takes you a moment for the words to come properly, remembering the steaming hot bath he prepared you. You realize there’s a small burst of pride blossoming in your chest, as if you finally got the answer you wanted all along. Maybe it doesn’t make sense to you in the moment, but you admit it feels right. 

He nods and assists you into the tub. You ease your body into the warmth of the water, sighing at the way your muscles loosen in an instant. Though it doesn’t help the butterflies in your stomach any, but you have him to blame for that.

Still, you try to relax considering he prepared this all for you. Your eyes close and you sink lower into the tub, only hearing him shuffling about until his voice finally spills into the air.

“I’ll allow you to rest,” is all he says, and in an instant your eyes open, heart already longing for him when he’s not even gone yet.

You straighten your back and bring your knees to your chest. “Will you stay?”

The way he hesitates for a second would tell you he’s surprised, but then he smiles and nods. “Of course.” You’re smiling as well as he takes a seat on the edge of the tub. 

“Will you hand me that washcloth?” You point to the fresh washcloth he had readied for you earlier, and he grabs it without hesitation to hand over. “Actually… will you…” You don’t finish the question, only handing the cloth back to him, and he quickly gets the idea of what you’re hinting at, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt to unveil strong arms with veins appearing from his hands and spiraling upward. It’s another small detail to make him more human, but it also makes you more breathless, finding him attractive while yearning for his touch. 

“Sure.” He dips the cloth in the water to wet it before squirting a dollop of soap. He lathers it up for a moment, and you turn back around to offer him your back. Within seconds he’s washing you, rubbing the cloth from shoulder to shoulder, causing you to whimper once again beneath his touch. The memories of the massage come into mind, his gentle hands and the way he was so careful. Heat washes over you, an ache settling between your thighs. 

You allow him to take his time. The feeling of him washing you eases every inch of your body, even if you are becoming aroused all over again from the situation. You try to ignore it, letting yourself be pampered by him. 

When he pulls away, you assume he’s washed all he could reach. So, you lean back against the tub, exposing your chest, your breasts, for him. He waits a moment as you take a deep breath, then he leans in to begin tending to the newly uncovered areas.

His touch remains delicate. He’s gentle as he moves over your skin. You feel your nipples hardening as he brushes the cloth past them, offering a quiet moan in return. You want to know what his expression looks like as he washes you, but your eyes are shut too tight. You’re far too nervous to take a peek, so you keep them closed to focus on the feeling of him taking care of you. Warmth spirals from between your thighs to the pit of your stomach and finally your chest. The ache grows nearly painful between your legs. You lick your lips and whimper beneath his touch, breaths becoming heavy, needing more.

You call for him, but you aren’t even sure what to say. What could you say? How do you tell him his touch does incredible things to your body and you want to get off? Even the thought sounds ridiculous to you. How could he make you ache with need more than any man ever has when he isn’t even human? How could you be so turned on from the simplest of touches from him? “Could you.. I mean… I need…”

You’re a mumbling mess, not knowing how to beg for him even if you could muster up the courage. Your head falls back against the tub, trying to clear your head with a gulp, and he continues to massage your chest though he’s been done washing you for a while.

But it’s as if he can sense what you need. Like he was made to give you what you crave even when you can’t ask for it. He disregards the cloth to the side, allowing his hand to meet your skin and you release a gasp in return. He’s touching you, all of you, running his hand down your chest, over your breasts, remaining cautious the entire time. You can’t help but to whimper while pushing your body into his hand. Even if the words fail you, you realize you can ask in other ways. You can show him what you need. 

“Can I touch you?” he suddenly asks, and the simple question leaves you breathless. His tone is deeper, darker, suddenly needier than you have ever heard him before. Considering he’s already touching you, the question can only mean one thing. “Can I pleasure you?” 

Such a simple question but it leaves you shaking with need. It burns hot inside of you, feeling as if you’ll combust if he doesn’t do just that.

“Please…”

It’s all he needs to hear. His hand brushes past your stomach, fingers dancing for a moment below your belly button. It’s as if he’s giving you a chance to tell him no, to back out. But you say nothing, only parting your thighs for him before he dives deeper into the water.

The moment you feel him brush over your mound, your senses go haywire. A rush of lust and heat overwhelms you, eyes shutting tight as you lick your lips, back arching from the side of the tub. Just the simple touch already has you so worked up and you’re dying for more. 

As his fingers slip down your slit, a gasp falls from your lips. Ever so slightly your hips roll, begging for more without words. He wastes no time giving you what you need, though he does draw the moment out. His fingers caress up and down your slit, working you up further, drawing out a quiet whimper before you’re breathless. He teases and plays between your thighs, surprising you that he can already know how to touch. 

Finally he finds your clit, brushing over the swollen bud to leave you gasping. You bite down on your bottom lip and grip the edge of the tub, feeling his fingers ease over your delicate areas with care. He starts slowly, massaging small circles into your flesh, and your body calms from being tense. You give into the pleasure beginning to build, allowing him to take control of the situation, to make you feel good. He tends to your aching folds as you begin to whimper, heavy breaths falling, hips moving against him. 

You call for him, releasing his name in a breathless whisper. “God, please… please, don’t stop.” No longer are you feeling shy and insecure. He brought out the desires in you and now you only have one thing on your mind. 

“You’re shaking,” he tells you, his deep, needy tone hinting at amusement. His fingers begin to work faster, drawing out each and every bliss-filled moan from your body. You can hold back no longer, letting go of all your worries and giving in to the way he makes you feel. “Does it feel good?”

“Y-Yes,” is all you can manage, biting down on your bottom lip a second later while focusing on the feel of his fingers against your skin. Suddenly, he leans closer, his deep, dark voice a whisper in your ear. 

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” The question leaves you even more breathless, as if the words suck the air right out of your chest. His tone demands an answer and his fingers work quicker against your clit. 

“God… yes,” you gasp, back arching from the side of the tub, thighs threatening to close around him. “It feels so… so good.”

“Come for me,” he encourages with a low growl in your ear. “Come on my fingers. Let me hear those sweet little noises you make when you come undone.”

God, who was he? He was suddenly a different person, though you couldn’t complain. The words were everything you needed to hear as he brought you closer to the edge. His fingers on your clit felt like magic, warmth bursting through you without warning, bliss finally spilling over and surging through your body. Your head falls back, thighs clasping around his hand, rolling your hips and whimpering, moaning, so breathless all at once. Your body shakes beneath him, trembling with pure pleasure, stars in your eyes from how tight you’re squeezing them shut. 

Then you begin to come down, still shaking, still breathless. He soothes your body with a gentle kiss to your temple, making your eyes flutter open to look at him. There you notice the hue of his eyes, a color between pink and purple, almost as if it’s melting between the two. You look at him for a moment, so at peace, so relaxed and on cloud nine. He grins in return, only staring back at you for a moment before he leans in to press his soft lips against your forehead. 

You don’t say much as he helps you finish your bath. You realize you’re too exhausted for words. Instead, you allow him to take care of you. He pulls the drain to the tub before helping you out, grabbing the towel to begin drying you off. He remains careful with his every motion until you’re dry and he wraps the towel around you. Then he guides you to your bedroom before you crawl into bed, tossing the towel to the side and slipping beneath the covers.

You call his name.

“Yes?”

You bite your lip to hide your grin. Somehow you’re still on cloud nine. “Will you stay here tonight?” you ask him, feeling shy with your voice low. “With me?”

His smile flashes once again. “Of course.”

***

In the morning, the memories of the night before hit you like a ton of bricks. It feels like a dream at first, only hints here and there of what happened. Images of him helping you undress fill your mind first, then you touching his face comes next. What follows is a quick sequence of you stepping into the tub and then suddenly you’re begging for him to touch you.

Your eyes pop open, heart pounding against your ribs. Suddenly you can’t breathe, but for different reasons. Suddenly embarrassment floods you, feelings of guilt weighing on your heart, wondering how you could be so stupid to do such a thing.

He isn’t real.

He’s not human.

How could you use him like that just to feel close to someone after so long? Have you really gotten that lonely? Has your heart been broken beyond repair?

The questions run through your mind one after another, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach and needing to get out, away, anywhere but there. Luckily, he isn’t next to you when you hop out of bed.

Good, you think, you can maybe sneak past him to head out. You aren’t even sure where you’ll go, you just need to get out. Clear your head. Take time to think away from the enticing android probably in the kitchen making you breakfast.

The thought sends your stomach churning all over again. You aren’t sure if it’s because it makes you feel so pathetic in the first place, or if it’s because part of you feels as if you have somehow taken advantage of him. He has been nothing but kind and professional since he arrived. How could you start to feel so many things for him all at once? How could you ask him to perform such an intimate act on you?

You can’t give the thoughts another second of your time. At least not right now, deciding to rush to the bathroom to freshen up as quickly as you can before getting dressed. After washing your face, brushing your teeth, and managing your hair enough so it doesn’t actually look like you just woke up, you throw on a simple t-shirt and jeans before sneaking out of your bedroom.

You peek into the hallway first, spotting him nowhere in sight and not taking a moment to realize how ridiculous this is. You shouldn’t be sneaking around. You should face your problems head on, admitting to what you actually did with him.

But it’s all too overwhelming, and you can’t even understand your emotions at the moment. How could you face them?

Tip-toeing into the living room, you finally notice him in the kitchen as the smell of breakfast hits your nose. His back is to you, guilt weighing you down all over again as you think for a moment about if you could sneak past him. Just slip on by, grab your shoes and bag, and run out the door.

Before you have the option, he turns around to spot you. Instantly, he brightens the entire room with his smile. “Good morning,” he greets you, as if nothing is wrong. As if what happened the night before didn’t actually happen. “I’m making you breakfast. Toast and eggs, just how you like.”

The sight of him instantly has your heart crumbling into pieces. You want nothing more than to pretend nothing is wrong, but the guilt and embarrassment won’t allow it.

“Sorry,” you quickly say, turning away from him because you’re afraid if you stare at him any longer, you’ll be tempted to stay. “I have to go.”

“Go?” he asks, but you ignore him to slip on your sneakers resting by the door. “You didn’t have anything planned for today. Would you like me to-”

“No!” You turn around, shaking your head and clearly leaving him confused. He blinks a few times, eyes flashing white while trying to read your mood, but you have already stayed longer than you would have liked. “No, sorry, I just really need to go…”

With that, you rush out the front door without another word. You’re rushing too fast toward the stairs at the end of the hall to focus on the guilt building in your chest, the way your stomach churns. On top of coming to terms with what happened the night before, now you feel worse for brushing him off as you did. 

He didn’t deserve that, you tell yourself, he did nothing wrong. It was all me. 

Tears begin to well in your eyes, but you don’t dare let them fall. You blink them away while rushing from the apartment to the sidewalk, ignoring the looks a few pedestrians give you while making your way to the only place you can think of in the moment.

***

It’s been a while since you’ve been to Mr. Park’s office. The furniture in the lobby is rearranged from the last time you were here picking up your new assistant, and he even has a new secretary settled behind the desk. The secretary that is now rushing to you, informing you can’t possibly barge into Mr. Park’s office, but that’s exactly where you’re heading. 

“I need another assistant.” The words come bursting out the second you walk in, spotting Mr. Park behind his desk, glasses on his face that are now lowered to see his brows raised.

“Ma’am, you can’t be in here!” the secretary continues to tell you, but Mr. Park shoos her away, telling her it’s okay. 

“Something wrong with your android?” he asks, setting down the papers he was reading to give you his attention. “Was there a malfunction or-” 

“No, no that’s the problem… he’s perfect. Too perfect!” You sigh in frustration, sinking into a leather chair on the opposite side of his desk. “I need someone not so… young, and good-looking, and someone that doesn’t say exactly what I want to hear and do everything I want him to do in the moment, and someone…” 

“Someone that’s not perfect for you?” Mr. Park interrupts, a coy smile on his lips. You aren’t even sure why he’s humoring you considering you barged in. Reality sets in and has heat bursting into your cheeks, wondering what has gotten into you lately. You would normally have never been so rude. “He is everything you asked us for, isn’t he?” 

“...and more,” you admit in a low, hesitant voice, slumping down in your chair with a frown. Mr. Park laughs, ridding the room of tension even though you feel completely miserable inside. 

“Having second thoughts about an android as an assistant?” 

“More like too many thoughts, and feelings, and even more I should not be experiencing.” 

“Who says?” He frowns with the question. 

“Me! I say! He’s not even human, but I’m…” You pause mid-sentence, causing his eyes to grow wide. “He’s perfect. He’s too good to be true, honestly. I don’t know how to accept how I am feeling for him when I feel so ashamed because he isn’t even real. He’s perfect for me because he was only programmed to be. Nothing more. It’s not actually real.” 

“Well, that’s only partly true.” 

Your eyes flick toward him with a furrowed brow, a sudden spark in your chest. “What do you mean?” 

“Sure, this android might not be one hundred percent human, but he once was.” Mr. Park pulls the glasses from his face before rubbing his eyes, making it clear he has been reading his paperwork for too long. Maybe that’s why he’s humoring you. He just needed a break, and maybe some entertainment considering you’re a second away from a meltdown. “Many years ago, the first ever android made by our company was modeled after a real human being.” 

You blink, mind already spinning with questions and curiosities, but you say nothing and allow him to explain. 

”Real human, real personality, characteristics, history, feelings and responses to situations. We have even had androids who once were thought to be malfunctioning because they expressed their own desires and emotions, and were eventually thrown out. Turns out, after a few years we realized we could use that mistake to better them.” He offers a smile at the thought, as if he is proud of the progress his company has made. “Since then we have, of course, advanced our technology and creation of the androids for many purposes, but the core of what makes our androids special will always remain the same.”

“What are you saying, Mr. Park?” You sit up in your chair, giving him your full attention as you hang on to every word.  

“He is as real as you want him to be. He grows with you, learns from you. After a while, though our important programming and data will remain functional, he’s hardly our creation. He’s yours.”

“You mean…” You feel as if your heart will stop beating at any second. “He can feel things for me? He can grow to…”

“To care for you and eventually love you?” He chuckles, and your mouth falls open the moment he nods his head in delight. “Of course. The technicalities of what makes him run may not be human, but what he develops to feel for you certainly is. It came from a real place, after all.” 

There it is. The main thing holding you back from him. After months of ignoring your feelings and desires, Mr. Park tells you in a few words it was all pointless anyway. There’s no need to worry over him not being real when the things he can feel (and it surprises you he even can feel things) are very much real. The way he responds to you is real and is natural. It’s the reason his eyes shift colors. It’s the reason it makes it so easy to fall for him. 

“But I… I mean I did… things…”

Mr. Park smiles, getting the hint from your shyness and the way your words fall that you are hinting at the physical relationship with him. “Do you feel guilt because of it? Because you allowed yourself to be loved? You allowed yourself to be shown pure affection?”

“Well ,when you put it like that…” You bite your lip, images of the night before flashing in your mind. He took such good care of you, and it’s hard to deny how much you needed it. Your body craved him, but even more, your mind deserved release and your heart was dying to feel something other than pain and distractions. “I guess I feel like I did something wrong because I didn’t think he could feel things. How could he agree to do… that with me when he’s programmed to do whatever I want? I didn’t want to force him. I didn’t want him not to have a choice.”

“Oh, believe me,” Mr. Park begins, throwing his head back with laughter, “an android will never do something it doesn’t want to. They have a lot more free will than one would like to believe. Trust me, I could tell you a few stories.”

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling a little more at ease over what happened. 

“Yes, yes, I could, of androids hating their original purposes and picking completely new ones all on their own, but we’ll save that for another day,” he says with a smile. “Your android was programmed to do what you wanted, that’s true, but it’s not the specific actions that are just some simple tasks his processor handles. He was programmed to be your companion, your protector. What that means for him is ultimately up to him, do you see?”

As he speaks, the guilt weighing you down like a thousand pound weight feels lighter with every word. He was created for you, to be perfect for you, but the relationship the two of you have is real. What he feels for you is real, and what you feel for him in return is not wrong. Maybe the parts aren’t human, that’s true, but the experiences the two of you shared, the way he makes you feel warm and safe, your happiness when he is near, it’s incredibly real and nothing to be ashamed of. You see that now. 

“Thank you, Mr. Park.” You quickly stand with a smile before your emotions begin to overwhelm you.

“Of course,” he says, standing to walk you to the door, “but how about a phone call first? You bursting in here nearly gave me a fright and I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“Oh, right,” you begin, giggling in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. Thank you!”

You leave his office while giving an apologetic glance to the secretary to finally make your way home. 

***

“You’re troubled.” He sits with you at dinner, though the two of you haven’t spoken much. When you arrived home, you admit you were feeling better thanks to the talk with Mr. Park, but you still had to deal with actually facing your emotions. It’s one thing to talk about it with someone not involved, and an entirely different thing to be face to face. 

You apologized for running out on him, and of course he told you it was nothing to apologize for. He asked if everything was okay, and you lied and told him you were fine, only to sneak away to your office to clear your head before dinner. A little while later, he called you when it was ready, realizing he had another one of your favorite meals laid out on the dining room table. 

“I just have a lot on my mind,” you tell him, and it couldn’t be more of an understatement. 

“I’m here if you want to talk about it,” he says, just like he always does, and no matter what you do or how you act, he is always there to comfort you. The thought has you both the warmth spiraling in your chest and guilt weighing you down, but it’s only from not knowing how to tell him what was bothering you. You want to be open and honest with him. He deserves that much.

A few moments of silence pass, and he doesn’t push any further.

“How do you feel about me?” you suddenly ask before you lose the courage. You look to him, staring into his eyes as if it will help you find the answer.

“My purpose is to assist you and be there for anything you need,” he replies, and you almost want to laugh at his proper, programmed response.

“No, I know, but I mean… how do you feel about me?”

He pauses for a moment and you grow more anxious with every second that passes. Your heart beats quicker, harder, nearly on the edge of your seat until his calm, soothing voice brings you back down. 

“Being with you makes me happy. I don’t want to be anywhere else if it’s not by your side. Seeing you every day gives me purpose. You put meaning into my life, and I hope for it to be that way for as long as I live.” You have no words the moment he stops speaking. All you can do is stare at him, blinking, lips parted, on the verge of tears because his words wrapped around your heart and nearly squeezed all the life out of it before receiving you once again, but you don’t allow them to fall. His confession overwhelms you, not knowing exactly what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t that. He notices he left you speechless for a moment, so he continues with a smile, eyes falling to his lap as if he’s suddenly in his own little world. “Seeing you happy makes me happy, but more than that… I feel complete. You’re the reason I exist. You’re my reason for everything. So I want to be with you, not only because it’s my purpose, but because I love you.” 

The first tear hits your cheek when he stops speaking and by the time you call his name, they fall freely. You can’t hold them back. You can’t hold yourself back, either.

You rush to him, wanting to feel him close, wanting him to hold you. And he does, wrapping arms around you as you settle in his lap, lips crashing into his as you clutch his shirt tight in your fist. The tears continue to fall, but you don’t pull away, so overwhelmed with relief and so full of love for him.

You love him, and he loves you, and it’s completely, entirely real. There’s no explanation needed beyond that. You don’t need a reason to feel the way you do, you just need to love him. 

“I’m sorry,” you say when you pull away. “I went to see Mr. Park today because of what happened. I was so scared of how I was feeling and I was so worried I did something wrong. I felt so ashamed for feeling the way I felt and I just wanted… I just…”

You’re breathless by the time your rambling words fail, and all he can do is pull you close. Your head falls against his shoulder, allowing him to hold you as you cry. 

“You don’t ever have to apologize to me.” He begins caressing your back to soothe your tears. You can only clutch him tighter, never wanting to let him go in the moment. “I understand. There were… moments when I felt confused as well. I can only imagine the emotions you were experiencing.”

Pulling away from his chest, you sniffle and while wiping your cheeks of the tears. “You were confused?”

He grins and nods. “I wasn’t prepared to feel the things I felt for you. I was tested a lot when I was made. I was given instructions on how to do many things, but falling in love with my human was never brought up.”

His way of speaking, his serious tone and matter-fact-words as if everything has to be textbook definition explanations makes you begin giggling. He chuckles as well, pulling you to him and wrapping both arms around your body now. You can’t resist leaning in and giving him a peck on the lips because God, you’ve wanted to do it for so long and be like this with him you feel as if you have to make up for lost time. 

“But they said you were a companion… able to get, uh, physical if the person wanted.” You aren’t sure why it still makes you so shy to think about. Maybe it’s because it’s all so new or maybe it’s just because he is perfect, and you never want to be anything less than that for him as well. 

“That’s true, I am capable of responding to my human’s needs after reading their body language.” Your cheeks are suddenly hot with his words as he speaks, wondering just how far he could go. “Physical relationships are different from emotional ones, however. They told me you needed an assistant and nothing more. I never expected to get so close to you. I never expected…”

“To do what you did last night?” For a second his eyes flash that dark, deep red that makes your body burn, and then they settle. “I didn’t expect it either. Any of it, honestly, but I can’t help it. I love you, too. I’m not ashamed of it anymore. I want to be with you.” 

His eyes shift from his default color to yellow as you speak, and your chest blossoms with love all over again. It fills you up just to look at him, so in love and for the first time, it’s all you feel. You feel his love and he feels yours, and for the first time in a while you’re truly happy.

***

A few days pass while getting comfortable with your new relationship with him. Even if you aren’t ashamed anymore, it does take some getting used to. You’re less shy around him, allowing him to run your baths and pamper you without worries. He even sleeps in the bed with you. Well, you sleep, and he rests, and you enjoy his warmth all night long while he lies next to you, holding you, keeping  you safe and comfortable in his arms. 

You don’t bother pushing the relationship any further because it’s all so new and enjoyable to be with him as simply as that. He still cooks for you and manages your work schedules just like he was programmed to do, but there are times when he feels more like a boyfriend and less like an assistant. The thought always makes you giggle, and you want to bring it up to him one day, wondering what you are to one another, but in the end you decide it doesn’t matter. He’s your android, and you’re his human. It doesn’t need any more explanation.

Eventually, the desires do rise again. Especially in the moments when he offers to give you a massage, or tends to you in the bath. When he kisses you good night, holds you against his chest, and does all the things a proper boyfriend would do. You fall even more in love with him and with nothing holding you back, each day that passes you grow more curious about his response to your needs, as he put it. Your body begins to grow hot at the simplest of touches. It’s clear you crave to get closer to him, going further than you went before when he touched you between your thighs. He never pushes, however. He never does anything you don’t want him to, but you aren’t sure how he will respond when you make it clear exactly what you’re wanting. 

You’re also more than curious about him, seeing and tending to his body just like he has yours. There’s been a few times during a massage or bath that you’ve wanted to touch him as well, though you never knew how to go about it. Of course, you’re more than confident he wouldn’t mind, but you wanted it to feel right. 

One night while you’re in bed after you’ve showered, the curiosities get the better of you. “What you said about responding to my needs…”

“Yes?” He arches a brow, looking over you tucked beneath the sheets already. He was just getting situated himself when you decided to ask, so he settled for having a seat on the edge of the bed in front of you. 

“What about your needs?” You bite your lip, waiting for him to answer.

“My needs?” His expression twists to surprise, but you can’t blame him. 

“Do you have needs?” you question, voice lowering with every word. “Can you feel pleasure, too?” It’s not that you’re embarrassed to ask him, but more so you aren’t sure how to get the point across. You wonder if it’s silly to think about such things. You imagine most android owners don’t bother with their needs, but you want to be mindful of what he wants as well. You’re also curious. Can he feel pleasure? Can he even get aroused? 

“Of course,” he begins, and you assume he’s going to tell you how your pleasure is his pleasure, how making you happy makes him happy, but that’s not what you want to know.

“I mean… sexually…” Now you’re feeling shy, but you gather the courage to sit up from the bed and reach for him. “Like… how does this feel?” Your hand falls to his thigh, caressing over the blue, silk pajama pants he wore to bed. Suddenly you feel him tense beneath your palm, the muscles of his thighs tightening much to your surprise. You didn’t even know he could react in such a way.

“I like it,” he says without hesitation. “I feel … good when you touch me.” You look up, meeting his eyes to spot a familiar deep red hue within them to confirm the words he tells you. 

“Can you become… aroused?” The last word leaves your lips in a whisper. You feel so silly in the moment, being shy about simply asking questions, feeling like a school girl in sex-ed getting too curious for her own good. “What if I touched higher?” Before he can reply, your hand shifts up his leg, skimming over what feels like a bulge in them. You gulp, never having touched him like this. Suddenly your nipples are hard, pressing tight against your thin nightgown, heat building between your thighs. 

You palm him through his pants, surprised to feel him growing harder beneath your touch. Your heart races but you can’t pull away. You want to touch him, and from the groan he releases, he wants it, too.

“I am currently aroused, so yes, I can become aroused.” You giggle and bite your lip at the way he answers. It suddenly lightens the mood, realizing he is enjoying what you’re doing to him. 

“You’re getting hard.” You meet his eyes again to see the passion burning within them. Part of you only did this as an experiment because you were curious. The rest of you wants to finish because he seems to be enjoying it so much. 

“You’re touching me,” he replies, a smirk appearing on his lips that makes you giggle again. 

“I’m sorry for the questions,” you tell him, “I was just curious. I wasn’t sure… how it worked.” But you don’t stop caressing him. You don’t think you could stop at this point after feeling him grow beneath you and his eyes telling you how much he likes it. 

“How it worked?” He raises a brow and smirks. “I can show you.”

Your cheeks burn hot from his words, knowing he was only teasing you, easing the tension in the situation to make you feel even more comfortable. “I mean, being with you. How all of that works. You responding to my needs. How it feels for you when I touch you.”

“Do you want it to feel good?” he asks, tone deepening to send a shiver down your spine. “Do you want to bring me pleasure?” 

Your breath catches in your throat. Images flash in your mind of all the ways you could make him feel good, all the ways you want to make him feel good and all the things you want to do to him.

“Yes,” you say breathlessly. “I want to make you feel good, just like you did for me. Is it possible for you to, uh, for you to… you know.”

“To have an orgasm?” He doesn’t beat around the bush. In the moment, you’re thankful, even if the blunt words catch you a little off guard. You nod your head in response. “Sure, but not in the typical way humans do.”

“How so?” You cock your head to one side, embarrassment pushed away for the moment to fully take in his words. 

“My senses aren’t like yours, but I do have them. They can become overwhelmed in a positive way with certain emotions, certain affections from someone I am fond of. The sensors inside me either react positively, negatively, or neutral to the source of the touch.” Your eyes are wide as he speaks, hanging on to each word because it’s so new and interesting to you. Not to mention it will help you become closer. You’re thankful of that. “If there’s a lot of positive response all at once, which I imagine any pleasure from you would cause, well… you can guess.”

He “comes”, you think, but you keep it yourself. 

“So it feels nice?”

“It’s one of the best feelings I am told, but I haven’t experienced such a thing myself. Some would say it’s close to being in love, but nothing can compare to being in love with you.”

Smacking your lips, you roll your eyes before giggling. “When did you get so cheesy?” Before he can reply, you lean closer, pressing your lips to his, showing your thanks for him putting up with all your questions, and even letting him know you don’t mind his cheesiness once in a while. He pulls away from your lips smiling, and you’re grinning from ear to ear yourself. 

“As I was made to believe, human women enjoy this kind of romantic banter?” 

You burst into giggles at the statement, but you can’t disagree. It does feel good coming from him. 

“True,” you tell him. “There are other things human women and men enjoy that we haven’t went over, yet.”

“Oh?” He raises a brow, and in a moment of courage, you go to him. Swinging a leg over his lap, you straddle him, wrapping arms around his neck while looking down at him.

“I can show you,” you tease him just as he did before, watching his eyes flash between pink and red. The sight makes you giggle and bite your lip, realizing it’s his form of being flustered. 

“I would love nothing more than to know.” His response sends a child down your spine while feeling his hands grip your hips. Without thinking, you begin to move back and forth over his lap, grinding softly against him until you feel his arousal once again. 

“Sometimes it feels good like this,” you tell him, voice becoming unsteady due to you wearing no panties beneath your nightgown. Your bare slit rubs against the silk of his pajama pants, feeling his hard and needy cock against you. “I can feel you getting hard. It makes me really wet to feel you like this.”

For the first time he shows with more than just his eyes how flustered he’s become. His lips part and his eyes widen, fingers gripping your hips tighter as you grind against him. Of course, you’re sure if he can know the proper ways to touch you and get you off in the bath, he probably knows anything else you can tell him. But the game of teacher and student is suddenly too thrilling. It has warmth flooding your body, feeling so powerful on top of him, telling him what you like and finally understanding what makes him feel good as well. 

“Does it feel good to rub your clit against my cock like this? To feel how hard you’ve made me?” His expression darkens, deep red in his eyes once again. He plays along with you, understanding in an instant your mood and what your body needs. You bite your lip, nodding and pressing yourself harder against him as the heat rises to your cheeks. Your body aches for him, clit throbbing and dying for his attention.

“It feels so good,” you tell him, breathless from your swollen clit rubbing against silk. “I could come like this, riding you just like this, but there is another way I like to get off.”

“Mm, how’s that?” He can’t help but to groan. Clearly you’re hitting all the right sensors in his body while straddling him. It begins to affect you more as well, feeling your nipples harden, pressing against your nightgown, as well as the arousal that drips from your core. You feel yourself growing hotter, wetter, grinding against him as the bliss fills your body.

“By you tasting me,” you answer, feeling even more bold than before. You’ve thought about his mouth on you, those perfect lips pressing to your slit, giving you pleasure, sucking on your clit. The images flash in your mind and it’s suddenly all too overwhelming. You crave him. You need him. 

“I would love to taste your pretty little pussy, baby.” He reaches to cup your cheek, causing you to gulp from his words and become breathless at the sudden term of endearment. It makes you feel warm all over again, and at the same time, so loved. “I would love to feel you come on my tongue, feel you shaking beneath me as you call my name and I give you pleasure.”

“Oh…” You can’t help but to lean in, pressing your lips to his, showing him passionate affection in the heat of the moment. He grips your body as you lean closer, giving him your all as his hands cup your ass and hold you close. You whimper against his lips, wanting more, needing all of him in the moment. 

You pull away breathless and it only takes him a few seconds to have you on your back, carefully placing you next to him on the bed. Then he crawls to his knees, and you can’t take your eyes off the bulge in his pants. It makes your body yearn for him, to feel him inside of you, but first, he wishes to taste you just like you mentioned. 

“Spread your legs for me,” he commands, voice deep and needy. You do as he says, opening yourself for him as his head dives between your thighs. You feel his lips against your flesh a moment later, placing an open-mouthed kiss to your mound, teasing you, working your body up only for him to offer the release for you to come back down. 

You call for him, reaching down to entangle your fingers in his hair. He groans from the sensation before you feel him part your folds with his tongue. A gasp fills the bedroom, back arching from the bed as he slides his tongue down to your soaked entrance and back up to your clit. Your mind grows numb, body too overwhelmed to think about anything other than focusing on the pleasure, the feeling of him messaging your flesh. He takes his time, starting out slow, teasing you, drawing out a few whimpers and curses beneath your breath. Your hips move to grind yourself against his face, coating his flesh in your slick arousal, hearing him groan from the way your body responds to him. 

Then he drags his velvet tongue down to your entrance once again, dipping inside your heat before moving to your clit in a blissful pattern. Your body begins trembling just like he said it would, so far gone while losing control of your senses. Filling the bliss building between your thighs, you call out his name, breathless, gasping for air and gripping the strands of his hair tight. He groans between your legs while leaving open-mouthed kisses over your clit, all before massaging the swollen bud in circles. 

His mouth drives you wild. Your back arches from the bed, eyes screwing shut, mouth falling open. Whimpers fill the room and he never pulls away from between your thighs even as you cry out to him that you’re coming. The bliss builds and bubbles over to send red hot pleasure surging through your entire body. It builds at your core and reaches your fingers and toes in waves, shaking, rolling your hips, getting every last ounce of pleasure you can from him. 

He doesn’t pull away even after you begin to come down. He offers sweet, soft kisses against your inner thigh to soothe your body, hands caressing your sides as you try to catch your breath. Even if the room is still spinning, your eyes flutter as you look for him. You meet his gaze as he stares up at you from between your legs. His eyes are a pale pink, yet so warm and inviting. Just the sight of him brings you enough peace to feel as if it will last forever. 

You would like nothing more than for this moment to last as long, but you also want to prove you meant what you said about making him feel just as good. As you begin to gain control of your senses, he crawls up your body to rest next to you on the bed. His lips fall to your skin, pressing soft kisses here and there, against your cheek and temple, but it doesn’t take long for you to take control of the situation.

Carefully, you push him down to the bed while settling on your knees. “I want to make you feel good.” The words have his eyes flickering between pink and red, sending another wave of warmth through your body. This time it’s for the love and affection you feel for him, knowing he feels the same. 

“I would enjoy it that very much,” is all he can manage, causing you to smirk. Gently, you tug on the hem of his shirt and he gets the idea. He helps you pull it over his head before you toss the fabric aside, leaving him in nothing but his pajama pants as your eyes scan every bare inch of him. 

Of course, he’s been shirtless a time or two around you in the middle of changing, but you’ve never seen him like this before. You’ve never taken a moment to study the outline of every curve and muscle. You’ve never had him in such a position, lying beneath you and waiting on your next move as you reach to brush your fingers across his skin. You feel his bare chest, the soft flesh beneath earning goosebumps over your own skin as you explore him. He’s still so warm, so perfect and inviting. Your thumb brushes over his nipple and suddenly he tenses beneath you.

“Is that okay?” you ask, wanting him to be comfortable just as he made you.

He nods, never pulling his eyes away from your face. “It feels nice,” he assures you, “I enjoy your hands on me. It brings me pleasure.” His words bring a grin to your lips. You continue exploring his body, running your fingers down his stomach before reaching the hem of his pants. You notice the bulge still pressing tight against the silk, making you feel flushed all over again. 

“Can I touch you here?” Part of you already knows he won’t mind, but you still want to be just as careful with his body as he always was with your own. 

His eyes flash for a moment, lips parting for a split-second as he blinks. “Y-Yes…” The strain in his voice speaking the word takes you by surprise. It’s the first time he’s ever responded in such a way, proving his arousal and the fact that you have him worked up. 

Biting your lip, you push his pants down his hips in a slow, gentle motion. His erect length comes to attention, earning your full focus as you take in the sight of him bare for you. Your eyes scan the length, gulping at the girth and feeling so overwhelmed all in such a short time. Without a word, you reach out to wrap your fingers around him, taking a peek at his face to see his intense gaze focused on you. You watch his eyes as you drag your palm over his silky, hot flesh, noticing the way the hues melt into pink, reds, and even purples. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was malfunctioning, but previous experiences such as your first kiss together convinces you it’s his honest way of proving how much he enjoys your touch. 

“Does that feel alright?” you ask in a whisper, continuing to stroke him, motions slow and steady. All he can do is nod, and eventually he closes his eyes as his head falls back against the bed. Your heart races. You’ve never felt so in charge and so in love. 

You’ve had moments in past relationships where you pleasured your partners of course, but nothing can compare to being with him. Such a new, thrilling experience to get to bring pleasure to someone you love so much, finding new ways to make him feel good. 

“What if I… used my mouth?” Your pulse spikes at the question, becoming bold. Suddenly he’s tense beneath you once again. You assume the images are running through his mind before he can even answer.

“I… uh, God… yes, please.” It’s the most human reply you could imagine him having, giggling triumphantly. It’s easy to admit how good it feels to be needed, and you feel even more powerful knowing your big, strong android becomes so weak at the thought of you simply sucking him off.

“Will you watch me?”

It doesn’t take much more convincing than that. He props himself up on his elbows to get a better view just as you grip him tighter while leaning close. Your tongue flicks out first, testing the waters to gauge his reaction. His body tenses as a groan builds in his chest. He really enjoys it, you think, sending a surge of heat straight between your thighs. You don’t dare stop, meeting his eyes while you wrap your lips around him, so hard and needy and hot in your mouth, and his jaw slacks as you do so. Meanwhile, your fist around him pumps slowly, gently, allowing him to get used to the sensations, but you can tell from his creased brow and parted lips, as well as his eyes beginning to go haywire, he loves it.

It fills you with pride and your own sense of bliss. It makes you feel good to give him pleasure, beginning to lower your mouth onto his length while stroking his shaft. Simple groans turn into grunts that turn into him thrusting his hips toward you. Without you mentioning it, he reaches down to grip a fistful of your hair, causing you to whimper against his skin from the sensation. 

You focus on his face while sucking him off. He never tears his eyes away from you. Groans and moans fill the space between the two of you as he watches you go down on him. You can’t put him completely in your mouth, but your tongue massages everything that will fit past your lips. A tight fist around his length takes care of the rest, stroking him, milking him close to his own bliss. 

“Baby,” he groans, and the cute little pet name falling from a strained tongue sends your heart soaring. “I… I’m… overwhelmed.”

You immediately pull back. “You mean…” He’s going to “come”, of course, though you aren’t sure what that means for you. His tone would suggest his wishes for you to stop, leaving you confused considering that was the whole idea. “You want me to stop?”

“No,” he whispers, reaching to wrap fingers around your wrist and pull you closer with a gentle grasp. “I want to be inside of you.”

His words leave you breathless. You feel yourself ache with need all over again. 

“Here,” he says, then reaches for the hem of your nightgown. You help him with the rest by pulling it over your head and tossing it to the floor, leaving you bare for him. His eyes scan your body. He’s seen you lots of times by now, but never in such a position. Never so close and intimate like the two of you are now. You feel warm under his gaze, but not embarrassed or shy. You feel his love as he looks at you, and when he pulls you closer to straddle his body, you feel his need, too. “You’re so beautiful.”

His words take you by surprise, but you feel the warmth swell in your cheeks. “You know what that means?” you ask, feeling silly a second later for doing so. “I mean, you know when something is beautiful?”

“I know when I look at you I don’t want to look at anything else,” he tells you honestly, making your heart flutter in your chest. “Isn’t that what you do with something beautiful?” 

Your face grows warmer as you lower yourself to his body. You press your soaked folds against his arousal, watching his eyes light up while his hands fall to your hips. Though they don’t stay there long, beginning to wander and touch every inch of skin he can reach. Large palms brush over your stomach, your ribs, reaching your breasts and cupping them gently in his hands. The sensation has you whimpering, and even more so when he caresses your hardened nipple with the pad of his thumb. 

You can hardly take it anymore, needing to feel him inside of you as you grip his length between your thighs. Aligning yourself against the tip, he brushes against your folds to make you whimper. Without hesitation, you begin to lower yourself onto him, easing him into your drenched heat while keeping your body relaxed. Your eyes flutter closed, pushing the head past your folds, coating his flesh with your juices from the pleasure he gave you earlier, moaning his name softly while sliding down his length.

His hands fall to your hips a moment later. His fingers dig into your flesh, holding you tight while a deep groan builds in his chest. He’s just as worked up as you and needs his own form of release. He makes it clear from the way his hips thrust into you from below ever so gently, pumping his cock deeper inside of you to make you gasp.

Then finally you’re completely wrapped around him, allowing him to fill you up while your mind grows hazy with lust. He enters you so deeply, hitting spots you weren’t even aware you had and it’s all suddenly too much too fast. You bite your lip to begin grinding yourself against him, listening to his beautiful cries of bliss while you ride him. His hands grip you even tighter, guiding your body to a pleasurable rhythm while his hips move beneath you, fucking himself into you.

“God…” All you can do is cry out, a mix of whimpers and moans, curses beneath your breath and calls of his name. He thrusts into you so deep it’s almost mind-numbing. Your body trembles on top of him. Unsteady hands fall to his stomach to support yourself, continuing to rock your hips back and forth, raising your body just a little only to sink down onto him again. 

The sounds of whimpers and moans, flesh pressing to flesh, his cock pumping into your wet heat fill the room all at once. It’s too overwhelming for the both of you. You feel the heat bubbling between your thighs and though your eyes are closed so you can’t see his expression, from the way he holds you to the way he thrusts beneath you and the noises he makes, you know he is feeling the same. 

Goosebumps form along heated flesh as you throw your head back, becoming lost in the pleasure of feeling him fill you up over and over. You press harder against him, rolling your hips so his cock hits the end of your channel. Over and over, just the way the two of you learned to love. 

“I… I’m…” He begins to stutter, and you know he’s getting close to reaching his own end. Slowly, your eyes open as you continue to ride him. You spot his face twisted in pure pleasure, his wrinkled brow, his jaw slacked, his head thrown back. His eyes remain closed but you can only imagine the wild array of hues flashing through them. 

So you push your pleasure aside for the moment to bring him closer. You focus on him, the noises he makes when you move a certain pace, the gasp he releases when you grind against him harder, faster. You keep the pace until he grips your hips so tight you wonder if it will leave a mark. It only adds to the bliss, however, loving the way he holds you tight while you ride his cock. 

“Come for me,” you tell him, leaning closer to press your body into his own. Your lips fall against his. He instinctively wraps his arms around your body. You don’t slow your pace, only moving your hips back and forth, easing yourself up and down his length. You whimper into the kiss from the sensation of him hitting deep into your walls over and over, and just when you aren’t sure if you can hold off any longer, he tenses beneath you.

A wave of overwhelming emotions wash over him as he comes undone. He begins to shake, but he never releases his hold on you. He grunts and groans, eyelids fluttering, nails even digging into your skin. You continue to ride him, trying to focus on his pleasure but the feeling of him being so overwhelmed against your own body brings you closer to the edge. Knowing the pleasure he is experiencing in his own way, knowing you’re the cause of it, has the warmth surging through you. 

A final gasp falls from your lips, feeling the heat spiraling uncontrollably from between your thighs. You quiver and shake, cry out that you’re coming, screwing your eyes shut and giving in to the bliss all over again. Your trembling body collapses against his own, growing too weak to hold yourself up as the pleasure rides through you. Wave after wave of pure ecstasy fills you from head to toe, making the room spin, leaving you breathless. 

And finally you’re coming down right along with him. He pulls out of you but he doesn’t let you go. He keeps you tight against his chest, holding you close, caressing your back and soothing the shaking in your limbs. He kisses your forehead and a sleepy smile forms on your lips. Everything is too perfect with him. You couldn’t imagine anything better, even if you tried. 

The two of you stay like that for a while longer, enjoying the feeling of each other’s bodies. Enjoying being held and taken care of, just like he always has, and just like he always will because he’s perfect for you. He was made for you, and somewhere deep down inside of you, you believe you were made for him as well. After all, you are his purpose. 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I started doing sex work while still living with my mom?

Warning for sexual mentions(nothing heavily explicit though)

I (18F) can't get a typical job like working in customer service or physical labor because of a mix of reasons. I'm both physically and mentally disabled, for one. I have chronic pain & chronic fatigue so extensive physical labor or any job that requires being up for a long time is out of the question for me, as it would cause me a lot of pain and put me at risk for collapsing or falling asleep due to exhaustion. I also have heavy social anxiety and sensory issues, and despite being in therapy since I was around 11, this hasn't gone away. I still have problems with stuttering when talking to people I don't know, and feel on the verge of panic the entire time. I also can't handle loud noises well- I carry around a pair of headphones constantly but that does mess with my hearing so I couldn't really use those in a customer service focused environment. I'm a full time student as well, and will be for several more years, as I'm going straight into college out of high school. On top of all that, I can't drive yet, as the process was delayed due to concerns that my health issues would make me a hazard on the road, so I won't have my full license until late this year.

I've tried looking for other job types before, but nothing I've been able to find works. I've tried doing art, but it's not easy to get people to actually commission you- I've only gotten 1 so far and I've had commissions open for almost half a year. I've tried content creation but have yet to build a platform big enough to make money from it. I've looked for online focused jobs such as creating captions or proof-reading others work but realized very quickly I'm not equipped/qualified for that job due to my problems with processing audio correctly, and my problems reading and writing correctly first try- I often have to re-read things many times over and re-type things at least once to get it at all correct, as words and letters get mixed up in my brain sometimes or I just accidentally skip over entire words or even sentences. And even then I sometimes still get it wrong. So I'm a pretty slow worker with things like reading, and something that requires listening to something and then writing what was said took so long it wouldn't meet the time requirements a lot of places are looking for in workers for that (that I've seen).

So the only idea I have left for making money so I at least have something to help pay for college and to go towards me being able to move out someday is some sort of sex work. I'm not planning on doing anything super risky, like meeting up with real people or anything that would show my face. So I wouldn't be worried about this bothering my mom since she's not really sex negative or strictly against sex workers or anything if it wasn't for one thing. I'm not sure if this will work either. I have a lot of acne problems all over, and problems with picking at my skin that leave scratch marks in a lot of places. And I'm not sure anyone would be willing to pay to look at that. It's not something that bothers me on an individual level, it's just a part of me, but that doesn't really change what other people do or don't find attractive. So it just kind of feels disrespectful to be selling that kind of thing in my mothers house if it's not even going to be significant enough for it to matter financially. And, of course, there's always the risk my mom could see it, and I worry it would upset her to see her daughter selling that kind of thing. But I don't see other options left for how I could make enough money to not end up drowning in student loans down the line, or end up living with my mom for many years into adulthood- which wouldn't be fair to her since she's not financially well off either. I don't plan for it to be a permanent job, just something to help me through my college years till I can start working in the field for what I'm getting a degree in or until my issues get well enough I can work a more typical job.

WIBTA?

What are these acronyms?

[messedupfan]

The Hope of a Free World: The Mentor

Summary: After confronting Finnick about the rebellion, you are given the task of mentoring him in the 75th Hunger Games.

A/n: So a little explanation here. You do not have to read both "The Mentor" and "The Tribute" but you do have to read "Prologue." This is sort of my version of a Choose Your Own Adventure because I saw this going both ways when the request was made. You are absolutely welcome to read both versions of the story, but thought I'd let y'all know that you don't have to. I also forgot to warn y'all before but I'm a huge Everlark fan. If you stan Everthorne, not the fic for you.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of suicide, alcoholism, drug abuse, mentions of forced prostitution, rebellion, mentions of torture.

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | The Prologue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the announcement of the Third Quarter Quell declared that the tributes would be pulled from the existing pool of victors, you were itching for a drink. No, you were itching for the drug you take when you have to entertain a client you don’t like. You wanted to feel numb. You didn’t want to think about having to experience the anxiety of a reaping once again. 

You don’t alter your mind to escape the harsh reality. As much as you want to. It still plays with your mind even though you knew this was going to happen. Finnick warned you that this is what their meeting in the Capitol was about. As soon as the broadcast is over, Finnick storms into your house and pulls you out. It needed to look real since your house was most likely bugged. You can hear Annie’s cries from the house they shared as he walks you over. She doesn’t know what’s going on, it’s for the best. According to Finnick, this was the only home in the Victor’s Village that had all of its recording devices removed. He made sure of it. 

He threw you on the couch as he began to pull on his hair and mutter to himself. He was really good at putting on a performance. “Mags,” he left and returned with the older woman a few minutes later. That was everyone Annie knew that he could trust in the district. 

Finnick doesn’t say anything coherent, mostly muttering to himself. He gives Annie a heavy dose of sleep syrup and he carries her to bed when it kicks in. “Okay,” he starts as he sits in front of you and Mags. No longer putting on the panicked act for Annie. Now she knows he’s talking to you and to Mags. That’s all she needs to know. “Here’s the plan, we’re going to train with each other to fight. But I’m going to need you to stop being anti-social. You haven’t mentored a winning tribute yet and I’m going to need your help in there.”

You nodded even though you hated that your contribution to the rebellion had to be talking to other people. “Well, I thought Mags was going to be there with me,” you remind them nervously as you fiddle with your medallion. 

Mags and Finnick exchange a look and your eyes bounce between the two as they both shake their heads. “Sable can’t be trusted. We tried to recruit her without her knowing but she is stuck in her ways. The Capitol hasn’t hurt her the way it has us. She wasn’t ever… desirable in their eyes so she doesn’t know what Snow does to us.” You scowl and shake your head. Even without being prostituted, you’d hoped that a fellow survivor of the Hunger Games would see that this wasn’t a way of life. “Annie… she isn’t an option. Mags is going to have to volunteer in order for this to work,” Finnick concludes. You nod. 

“Looks like we have a lot of work to do,” you say with a sigh.   

It was more than just combative training and learning how to charm sponsors. It was also learning about your escape out of the Capitol. Wanda even paid a heavy price to be allowed to see you one last time before the reaping just to show you the way the two of you, and anyone else you need to rescue, are going to make it out of there when the arena gets shut down. You couldn’t believe it when you found out that she was part of the resistance. But when she revealed that her motivations were the same as yours, it all made your heart flutter. Neither of you have felt free enough to say the words. Even without hearing her say those three words, you could hear it in the silence. You could feel it on the way home. You didn’t need much more than that for the time being.   

At the reaping your heart jumps with anxiety as your name is called. You stand forward as you wait for the process. Volunteers only occur after the reaping winner is introduced to the audience. You make sure to hold your head up high and only drop it when Finnick inevitably volunteers in your place. 

There is no time allotted for goodbyes. Which Finnick would have been okay with had they not denied Annie to join. She wasn’t mentally fit to take on the role of a mentor and according to the head Peacekeeper that escorted you, Finnick, and Mags to the train; it was an order given by the President that this year, they only needed one mentor for the tributes. You were still meant to mentor because you hadn’t successfully found your replacement. 

Finnick was nervous the entire ride to the Capitol. He knew that it was possible that Annie wouldn’t be allowed to mentor. She was exempt in the past since she was more unstable than others. They developed a system to give her the best life possible but she still held a reputation for not being all there mentally. He hoped that his allies in District 4 would be able to get her out of there. But there was no guarantee. 

You tried your best to comfort him but there wasn’t much you could do that wouldn’t give away the mission. That wouldn’t give away their private relationship. You didn’t want to risk exposing them, even if there’s a possibility that President Snow already knows. You weren’t going to do anything that will haunt you to believe it was you who confirmed his suspicions. 

Through the training period you are constantly meeting with Haymitch to gauge whether or not he’s been able to convince the Mockingjay and her boy with the bread to team up with your tributes. The three of you nearly jumped for joy when Haymitch informed you that the young woman chose Mags. None of you expected her to want to team with Finnick. His job was to focus on gaining Peeta’s trust. She wasn’t going to team up with anyone without his approval. 

Next came the time to shmooze the people in the Capitol placing bets and offering their support as soon as the Hunger Games started. You put every donation into your communicuff so you could eventually afford a gift to send. You pretended to accept many drinks and because you had been drunk plenty of times in the past, you knew how to play the part. Not as well as Haymitch of course. With Haymitch’s help, the two of you were able to get a few parachutes with supplies here and there but the prices are much higher this year since it’s a Quarter Quell and everyone wants to help their favorite former victors. You get lost in the act of cheering on your tributes on the screen and manipulating people into placing their money into your pockets. 

On the day that Beetee tells his remaining allies in the arena that he has a plan, you are promptly reminded why you're there to begin with. That’s when you started to get nervous. Knowing that you had to escape without being seen. If you failed, it could mean the end of you and you weren’t ready to sacrifice yourself for the cause yet. The whole reason you joined was to safeguard a future with the woman you loved. It was hard for you to focus, you were so on edge. You jumped every time someone approached you to hand you money to help your team. Any movement had your eyes scanning the crowd for a white suite with a black tinted shield on their helmets with guns pointed at you. There never were any. They remained on the other side of the doors that surrounded the room. The paranoia was eating you alive as if you were in the arena once again. 

When they started wrapping the tree with the wire, Wanda finally appeared from the sea of Capitolites. You didn’t know if she was ever in the room before that day but you were more than relieved to see her. “We have to go,” she whispered urgently as she grabbed your hand. You didn’t process fast enough to move so Haymitch tossed a drink in your face.

“I am so sorry, I can be such a clutz,” he grabbed you by your bicep. “Move,” he muttered as he smiled in the direction of the curious eyes that landed on the pair of us. “Nothin’ t’see here folks!” He slurred with a sloppy grin. He was drunk for so long that everyone bought the act. 

You began to move and follow Haymitch and Wanda. Haymitch was staggering so the two of you walked out of the area with him leaning on the both of you. The Peacekeepers almost didn’t pay the three of you any mind. 

Effie Trinket, the escort for District 12, trailed behind the two of you and she almost spoiled the escape as the Peacekeepers stopped her then asked the three of you to stop as well. “Excuse me, I am the only one with the key to the District 12 penthouse!” The Peacekeeper then asked why she couldn’t take Wanda’s spot in carrying Haymitch to his room and before you could stutter on a response, Effie was quick on her feet. “And risk flattening my feathers,” she scoffed as she clutched her pearls, “I think not!” The Peacekeeper apologized and let all four of you go.

At the first checkpoint, you and Haymitch discard your communicuffs so they can’t track you anymore. But that meant that the four of you had to move faster. They were made to alert authorities when prematurely removed. 

There was a little bit of a hiccup in the plan when a man approached Wanda, appearing out of nowhere. Stalling the four of you while he pulled her to the side to talk to her. You send Haymith and Effie off to continue to the rendezvous point as you stay back to ensure that Wanda gets there as well. The man's name was Vision, you overheard her when she asked him to let her go. There seemed to be some sort of history there. He looked like a government official. You couldn’t really tell what his significance was. But when he grabbed Wanda again and threatened to expose her, you did what life in the academy at District 4 raised you to do. He didn’t hear or see you coming when you came up behind him and snapped his neck. 

Wanda’s eyes widened but she shook her head and got back into focus. “Let’s go, we have to get out of here now.” You nodded and followed. When you got to the tunnel you were surprised to see a few of the other mentors there as well. You figured that they were on the side of the Capitol since their tributes were but each of them revealed their crackers with the mockingjay symbol on them. You did as well. There was a head count before every person could eat them to get rid of them. 

In the small gathering of people with a mix of mentors, camera crew, and what appeared to be Avoxes, Wanda recognized another man and this time she ran into his arms with tears in her eyes. You almost began to think that she had fooled you into believing that you were more than a purchase for her until she pulled away from him and you could get a good look at him. 

There was a small conversation once about him. Wanda had pictures of him all over her home and you once asked if she was married. She laughed at first but her expression fell as she realized you were holding a picture frame in your hand. She took the frame and placed it face down on the shelf as she muttered, “He was my twin before he became a traitor.” That was the last time you ever asked about him.  

Seeing her beam at him through her tears told you all you needed to know. Even if you were the reason she continued to be part of the rebellion, he was the reason she first sought them out. You couldn’t wait to be able to talk freely with her in District 13. You knew that there were many sides of her that you had yet to explore and you couldn’t wait to get to know her on a much deeper level. 

Once everyone boarded the stolen hovercraft you took a deep breath as you hoped that the plan in the arena went down as smoothly. But even if it didn’t, you knew that this was just the beginning of the new world. 

District 13 was strict. Each day you had a schedule tattooed on your forearm and you'd face harsh consequences if you didn't obey it. The meals were tasteless and the portions were less than you had gotten used to since becoming a victor. The training regimen was beyond what you were used to but it was the only thing about the district that you enjoyed because it was the easiest adjustment. Not to mention the times you got to spar with Wanda were some of the best foreplay the two of you got to experience. 

Unfortunately the two of you didn't get nearly as much time together as either of you hoped. Since you weren't married, they wouldn't let the two of you share a living space together. So she lived with Pietro, while you lived on your own. It was frustrating but you weren't willing to marry her over a distaste for the living arrangement. You wanted to wait until the country was free and so did she. 

The schedule allotted thirty minutes for family time. A decent break between the education and training for most of the citizens of District 13. You suppose it gave time to remind those who forget, what they are fighting for exactly. You and Wanda used that time to learn the sign language that the Avoxes use as communication. Wanda felt so disconnected from her twin because she couldn’t communicate with him the way she used to. Pietro was very patient and helpful when it came to the private lessons between the three of you. 

“I’m happy to have him back but,” Wanda sighed as she laid in your arms. “I wish I had done something to protect him.” 

You frowned as you lightly caressed her arm. You looked at her for a moment and admired her natural beauty. In District 13 appearance wasn't a priority the way that it is in the Capitol and certain districts. Wanda didn't need the wigs or the heavy makeup in order to fit in here. She finally got to be her true self. “There was nothing you could have done for him. If you had tried, you would have ended up just like him. You might not have even gotten here,” you tried to comfort her. 

Wanda sat up and faced you, “I um,” she looked down as she started to trace patterns on your chest. “I'm the reason he got in trouble in the first place.” 

You made a face, “How so?” 

“Vision,” she started and looked at the wall beside her. “The man you killed during our escape. He, uh, we were engaged. He worked in the government and he knew powerful people.” You nodded to show that you were following along when she did finally look at you. “And he witnessed Pietro committing an act of treason. He wasn't going to turn my brother in while we were engaged. I didn't know that he had seen Pietro do something illegal.” You rubbed Wanda's back as she spoke. It was clearly a difficult topic for her. “Vision never did anything out of the kindness of his heart. And he had a bit of a darkside to him that at a certain point, I couldn't handle anymore. So I broke off the engagement. He didn't even ask me to reconsider. He just showed up at my apartment the next day with a warrant and several Peacekeepers.” She closed her eyes as tears started to slip out. 

You shook your head as you wiped her tears. “If you had agreed to marry Vision, do you think you'd have been alive today?” Wanda thought for a second before she shook her head. “I think Pietro would tell you that you made the right decision. In fact, I'd put my money on that being the first thing he tells you when you can understand him. I mean, he was so incredibly happy to see you again. If he didn't care about you, he would have held a grudge.” 

“I suppose you're right,” she sighed as she rested against you again. The two of you fell asleep shortly after. And you were right. 

Pietro was eventually given a communication tablet because during a strategy meeting, he had written down brilliant ideas. President Coin and commander Boggs both agreed that Pietro needed to be able to speak up in a way that everyone could understand. Beetee developed a chip that was implanted in Pietro’s head. So the words appear on the tablet as fast as he can think them. He was even given options to either have it turned off completely or partially. Like if he wanted to have a private conversation, he could turn the voice option off and hand the tablet to the other person. And if he wanted to keep his thoughts private, he could turn the tablet off completely and not worry about a single thought being recorded or heard. 

The first thing he told Wanda was that he doesn’t blame her for what happened to him and that he is proud to see her as a happy and free woman. She sobbed and held onto him for the duration of the family time break.  

Finnick wasn't successful in retrieving both assets from the arena which made the progression of the rebellion slow down. He was able to get the girl out but not the boy. Johanna claimed that the girl was annoying before, but without Peeta she was insufferable. You couldn't imagine what she was going through. You were grateful that you weren't in her shoes. That you had Wanda with you. 

You tried to stay out of everything that concerned the Mockingjay and being a face of the revolution. You figured that the girl would snap out of it and realize that it was bigger than her. But eventually they started to look at you and Johanna. Finnick was willing to participate until the night that Annie was executed on live television at the District 4 Justice Building with four other confirmed rebels. The ones that were meant to help her escape the district. He tried to join her in the after life but you found him in time and got him to the infirmary.

You cried in Wanda's arms that night for the loss of your friends. You knew that Finnick won't ever be the same. 

So the responsibility of the propos fell onto you and Johanna. She was great at acting for the camera. You remember that’s how she was able to win her first games. No one thought the shy dainty girl from District 7 stood a chance in the arena until she got her hands on an axe. 

Most of her propos were filmed on a soundstage. She had a blue baton and fought against the soldiers dressed in Peacekeeper uniforms. Then she'd recite the lines perfectly. But there was something missing. You couldn't put your finger on it. But she wasn't inspiring. She was impressive. But she didn't have what Katniss had. And neither did you. 

You were a little more clumsy in your propo performances. You'd miss your marks and fumble on your lines. Luckily, with enough takes they were able to scramble something together. But it didn't have the fire it needed. It wasn't enough to inspire people to risk their lives for a cause that started to feel like it was dying. 

“It's not dying, it's just,” Wanda fails to come up with another term after you've expressed your concerns with her. She holds your face in her hands as she climbs onto your lap. Her eyes traveled along your face. She was searching for something. You didn't know what. “I can help you with your lines. Just, get me clearance to be with you during the day. You can do it. You can keep this revolution alive. I've seen that fire in you. You just need to have the right motivations.” 

You smirk, “I’m assuming that you believe that's you?” Wanda smacks your shoulder and you laugh as you kiss her cheek and trap her as she tries to escape your arms. “I'm kidding. I love you,” you said as you gazed into her eyes. Wanda froze in your arms. It was the first time you'd said the words out loud. She didn't know what she expected to feel when she finally heard those words from you, but she didn't expect to feel so much at once. She felt joy, she felt love, she also felt a deep fear. 

With tearful eyes, she leaned in and kissed your lips. “I love you too,” she whispered against your lips. The two of you made slow and passionate love that night. Telling each other how much you'd felt for each other. 

Wanda was right, with her as your director, you had the proper motivations for your filming. Plutarch was ecstatic with the new footage and things in the districts started to get rowdy again. People began to get motivated again. 

Things in District 13 started to feel a little more claustrophobic with the successes of your propos. Strangers would thank you and request autographs. Women would invade your personal space. Wanda would step in their way whenever she was around but she couldn't be by your side twenty-four seven. 

One of the times that a girl tried to kiss you, you were able to slip away and ran into an open vent to hide from her. That's where you found Katniss curled in a ball muttering to herself. “Sorry,” you said when she was startled by your presence. “I didn't mean to scare you, I just…” you cleared your throat and fiddled with your medallion. “I thought people here in Thirteen would have more boundaries than those in the Capitol but I guess horniness is a universal problem.” You tried to joke and you only got met with her glare. 

You nodded once and took a deep breath as you braced yourself for what you might face when you climbed out. But then a nurse started to call for Katniss. The girl curled up further and you instinctively blocked the nurse's view of Katniss with your body. “Sergeant, you shouldn't be in here,” the nurse grumbled. “Is Ms. Everdeen in there with you?” 

“I'm offended by that question. She is a married woman, and way too young for me,” you acted out dramatically. “I don't know if you’ve noticed, but I prefer someone a tad older than me. Don't tell her I said that though. She likes to keep her age a secret. But I mean come on simple math-” 

“What are you doing in there?” The nurse asked sharply as she interrupted your rambling. 

You hold up your medallion and the light of her flashlight bounces off of it. “I tripped walking and had to look for this,” you explained. “It's one of a kind. Couldn't risk losing it.” 

“Well since you've found it, you can leave. This is a favorite spot for the Mockingjay to hide. No one has seen her for hours,” the nurse explained. 

“Well, you're going to have to look somewhere else because she's not here,” you stressed as you stayed in your position. You were afraid if you moved, you would risk exposing that Katniss was also inside. 

The nurse turns off the flashlight and leaves. You listened to her heavy footsteps and waited until you couldn't hear her. “Why did you do that?” Katniss startled you. 

You yelped and held your hand to your chest as you dropped your coin. “Shit, Everdeen. Warn a person,” you patted the ground and your heart didn't stop racing until your fingers wrapped around the familiar metal. “I did it because I get needing a breather from all of the chaos out there. Besides, since you're out of commission, the rest of us have had to fill in for you. Let me tell you, I do not envy you. But I do sympathize with you.” 

“What are you talking about?” Katniss scowled at you. 

“They need a face of the revolution. Panem needs your face but they've been settling for mine and Jo’s,” you elaborated with a small laugh. “Let me tell you, I think I'm steering people in the wrong direction. I've had people approach me for a good time more than thanking me for trying to keep this revolution alive,” you shook your head as you stared at your medallion. 

“I have had to endure listening to the nurses gush about you,” Katniss muttered. You snorted. “I almost wished I could go back into the arena. It wasn't as painful.” 

“Believe me, no one wishes they could return to the arena more than I do,” you said quietly. “If I could've warned my younger self, I probably would have told him to not win,” you admit. Then you sigh. “But then I wouldn't have gotten to experience all of the good things I've managed to experience in my life.” 

“Ah, I've heard that you were quite popular with the citizens of the Capitol. I'm sure there's no regrets there when everyone wants to sleep with you, and has,” Katniss replied sarcastically. You're sure that she thought it was a harmless remark. She had no idea the weight of her words. So you gave her some grace. 

“Trust me Katniss, there's plenty of regrets there,” you said as you looked at her. “You're lucky to be ignorant to the true life of a victor. Especially someone as desirable as you.” 

Katniss rolled her eyes, “I'm far from desirable.” 

“A lot of my buyers would disagree,” you scoffed. 

“Buyers?” Katniss questioned but you couldn't explain it. So you shook your head. 

“Let's get you back to the infirmary,” you said as you offered her your hand. “You need to get better,” you said with a soft tone. 

Katniss stared at your hand as the red emergency light shined on it, then looked at you with tears in her eyes. She shook her head. “I don't deserve to. Not when Peeta…” she couldn't finish her sentence and you nodded. 

“You can't save him if you don't get better,” you tried to encourage her. “If you want them to arrange a rescue mission, you have to give Coin what she wants.” 

“Coin?” She squeaked out in confusion. 

The corner of your lips stretched up slightly. “She's the president of this district. Alma Coin is her full name,” you inform her. 

“Oh,” Katniss nodded. Then she accepted your hand and the two of you left the space. But once the two of you were in the hallway, Katniss wouldn't move. “I can't go back. I… the hallucinations… I can't.” 

“Hallucinations?” You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The drugs, I don't know. Whatever they use to sedate me. It's,” Katniss failed to continue then was interrupted when Gale Hawthorne spotted the two of you. 

“Katniss, there you are,” he said as he jogged down the corridor. As he got closer he slowed down and scowled at you. “I knew you weren't picky but I didn't think you were a predator,” he glared at you as he pulled Katniss away from you. 

“Gale,” Katniss snapped at him as he stood between the two of you. “Leave Y/n alone. We weren't doing anything. Let's go.” 

“Stay away from her,” Gale nearly growled at you. At the moment you refrained from laughing but later that night, you and Wanda couldn't stop laughing about it. 

A couple of days after that, while you were sitting with Wanda and Pietro in the mess hall, a blonde girl in her early teens dressed as one of the nurses tapped your shoulder. It took you a moment to recognize Primrose Everdeen but after she claimed that her sister requested to see you after lunch, you were able to put the pieces together. Wanda encouraged you to go so you did. 

When you met with Katniss, she wanted you to catch her up to speed with everything that had been going on. She didn't know who she could trust but she didn't think you'd lie to her. Gale treated her like she could break at any second. She didn't care to see her mentor or her district escort. Prim would go on and on about her day whenever she tended to Katniss, she didn't have any important information. The girl was in medical training. You seemed to be the best option. 

And you proved to be. You would sit by her side for thirty minutes each day, catching her up on any information that you thought she should know. She appreciated the honesty. 

She eventually got discharged from the infirmary. At her first meeting with Coin and Plutarch she requested that you were nearby. She was in there for about five minutes before she stormed out of the room. A week later, she was being dropped off in her home district. Plutarch's way of reminding the Mockingjay what's at stake. You were left behind to train, not that you minded. You weren't ever good at being a mentor. You don't know why you had the misfortune of being the one to find her that day. But the teenager seemed to have attached herself to you like a lost puppy. 

When she returned from District 12, she asked you to help her with a list of demands. She said her sister suggested it and that was the first time you wished that you were in her position. During the lunch hour, she sat with you and Wanda and Pietro. Wanda was hoping that Katniss wouldn't recognize her since she's almost positive she offended the girl while doing her job when she had a job in the Capitol. Luckily, Katniss never put it together. Pietro would chime in with a suggestion or two and Katniss was grateful for the input. After her meeting with President Coin she confirmed that she accepted her role as the Mockingjay.

Eventually Katniss began to rely a lot more on others. She developed a closer relationship with Johanna to the point that she requested to be roommates with her. You laughed when Johanna told you that Katniss wasn't as bad as she originally made her out to be. With Katniss needing you less, you were able to allocate time for Finnick. He was in horrible shape from losing the love of his life in such a horrific way. 

“I'm kind of glad she's dead,” he'd said one day as he focused his attention on his rope. “At least she's not being tortured. At least it's all over for her. She suffered for a long time. She's not in pain anymore.” It hurt you to hear the lifeless tone from the man that brought life to so much. He was the one to remind so many that through tragedy, there was still so much good. He's the one that snapped you out of your darkness. He had suffered so much for so long and he never let it show until Annie was executed. His words hurt for many reasons. That Annie was also your friend who could be quite funny and lively when she was stable. That she was someone anyone with a heart wanted to protect whenever she wasn't. 

At the mention of how she suffered, you recall a day at the market. It was just you and Annie. She was rattling on and on about some recipe she was trying to remember. She was slightly frustrated because she couldn't remember a certain ingredient. When you began to list off any ingredients that you could think of, a fake spear nearly hit Annie in the face. It would have made contact had you not caught it in time. The kids that were messing with the toy were very apologetic until Annie started screaming. People around began to panic as Annie had a melt down and all you could think to do was to shield her away from everyone. Others who were sympathetic to her condition helped you get through the crowded market while you carried her. It took her a month to snap out of it. You stopped by to check on her each day and Finnick allowed an hour visit each time. She would sit in her bed and stare blankly at the wall. She wouldn't speak. She'd hardly blink. You then knew that there was no such thing as a victor. There were only survivors. 

Sitting with Finnick was a lot like that. He wouldn't talk much and when he did speak, you almost wished you hadn't been there to hear it. 

On the day that Peeta was finally broadcast in an interview with Caesar Flickerman, Katniss rose up from her table where she was sitting with her mom and sister. She had a look you'd seen many times from Finnick and Annie and you felt that same protectiveness. She shouldn't have had to experience that moment so publicly. You pulled her out of the cafeteria and took her to a private area to watch Peeta's interview.

There weren't a lot of areas with private television access but you were able to shoo people out of a control room to allow Katniss the privacy. You stood outside the door to prevent anyone from going inside. You didn't run inside until you heard her screams. You wrapped your body around her and taught her how to breathe again until she calmed down. 

Shortly after that, Katniss started to do her propos. You asked Wanda to help direct her because she was so helpful with you. But when Effie caught wind of the possibility of a replacement, she swooped in. Unfortunately for her, Katniss wasn't an actor. She gave terrible delivery of her lines and her body language was too stiff. Even with Wanda’s notes, Katniss's performances were silly. Then they tested adding you and Johanna to help carry the weight. The two of you read the lines and Katniss was only meant to be seen and not heard. But it still wasn't enough. 

It wasn't until Haymitch walked in with his sarcastic claps that the team was able to put together what gave the Mockingjay her flare. She had to be in action. Her emotions had to be raw and real. Not with silly weapons and pretend fighting. Coin was resistant to letting the stars out into the front lines but Commander Boggs and Plutarch were able to convince her. 

Wanda wasn't too thrilled about you going out to fight either. The last thing she wanted to do was risk losing you. “I know that it's important but,” Wanda stands in the corner of your living quarters. “You have to swear to me that you're coming back here in one piece.” 

“Wanda, it's going to be safe,” you said as you crossed the room and took her face in your hands with a light touch. “You heard the details of the mission. They're only sending us to a refuge hospital in District Eight. We won't encounter a battle. We’ll be far from it. Besides, I hear Beetee has whipped up some badass weapons that aren't just for show.” She cracked a smile and you kissed her. The two of you leaned your foreheads against one another with your eyes shut for a moment as you held each other's hands. 

“Come back to me,” she whispered. 

“I promise, I always will.”

The following day Beetee invited you, Katniss, Gale, and Johanna to his laboratory where he presented the new weapons for each of you. For Katniss he had a sleek black bow that hummed with life whenever she held it in position. She used a normal arrow to practice and according to her, the bow helped her with accuracy. Not that she had a problem with that according to Gale. He was given a crossbow that seemed to have similar features to Katniss's bow. The bows came equipped with two types of special arrows. One had explosives and the other had fire. 

Johanna was given an especially sharp axe with nanotechnology that reshapes itself in order to stay that way. She was given a special glove with it. If she threw it too far, she was able to call it back to her no matter what it was stuck in or how far away it was. She thought it was a dumb idea at first and she was scared to even test it out since she couldn't trust that the axe wouldn't land in her hand the wrong way. But after a couple of run throughs, she couldn't wait to be given the chance to use the weapon. 

Next you were given a special trident. There was a second one made just like it for Finnick and it hurt you that he wasn't healthy enough to be doing this with you. After all, he was part of this long before you were. 

“The metal used for your trident and Johanna’s axe aren't of this planet. There isn't a metal stronger than this,” Beetee explained as you questioned why the trident was so light. You'd never wielded a trident so light since you were a child. You'd believed you were duped until you cut a test dummy's head clean off with barely a motion. 

“Why aren't our arrowheads made with the same material?” Gale asked with a scowl.

“It's the rarest metal on earth, bigfoot,” a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere as he tapped away on a tablet. “Explosives aren't enough for you?” He shakes his head. “We only had enough material for the Mockingjay suit, the axe, and the tridents.” 

“Wait, you mean to tell me that Katniss gets a special suit and the rest of us are vulnerable?” Johanna asked next. It wasn't fair.

“Take it up with Cinna. Oh wait, you can't,” the man said in reference to the designer's death. 

“What does Cinna have to do with this metal?” Katniss asked. 

“It came from his ancestors. He said the metal was called vibranium. He only had a limited supply of the pure metal and he had enough of its fabric to make the Mockingjay armor. I only fulfilled his dying wishes,” the man said. 

“Meet Tony Stark, everyone,” Beetee introduces the man. “He is almost as intelligent as I am.” 

“Charming,” Tony rolled his eyes at the man. “If you don't mind, some of us have real work to do.” He took the trident from your hands. “May I?” He said as he walked away without a response from you. He walked around the lab and took apart the rod. You figured that whatever he was up to with the weapon was only going to benefit you. 

The trident ended up being very useful in District 8 when the Peacekeepers attacked the hospital. 

Arriving at District 8, the group was brought inside a formerly abandoned warehouse. The entrance hall of the building was lined with stacks of casualties. You nearly threw up at the smell. Gale did have to step aside to vomit. Paylor commented that everyone will get used to the smell. You couldn't believe these were the conditions for those that couldn't make it to District 13. You had no idea how good you'd had it in that district until you walked into the main area of the warehouse. 

It was full of sick and injured and dying men, women, and children. Those who weren't at risk of losing their lives were tending to those that were. It was eye opening. This was the cost of war. It made you queasy again. You nearly fainted. But you didn't want them to waste any of their supplies on you. So you continued to stand tall. 

The first sighting of Katniss had the people stunned. They hadn't seen her until that point. No one outside of Thirteen had. An elderly woman asked her about her baby after she agreed that she was going to fight. You hadn't thought about the fact that Peeta had shocked everyone on the night of the interviews with the news of their private nuptials and baby announcement. It appeared that Katniss might've forgotten about that as well but she recovered quickly. She stated that she lost the baby. 

Shortly after that Cressida, a director from the Capitol, was raving about the footage she got of Katniss and of the rest of you meeting refugees and handing them supplies they needed. Plutarch thought it would be more effective if the team was sent with gifts and not just gifting the injured with the presence of the Mockingjay. You and Johanna were whispering inside jokes to each other about how Gale didn't look at Katniss like they were related. Then the jokes turned into claims that the rumors of their home districts incest problems might not be rumors. Gale heard that one and turned around to say something. That's when the first bomb hit. The team sprung into action to get out of the building and that's when everyone saw the hovercrafts with the Capitol emblems on them. Katniss and Gale moved to get higher in order to shoot them down with their special arrows. You tried to shoot them down with the standard issue machine gun they provided you in case something like this happened but it was just a waste of bullets once an arrow took one of the crafts down. 

A squad of Peacekeepers appeared and were firing their weapons. As you dove for cover, Johanna threw her axe. The weapon cut off three heads of Peacekeepers before it got stuck in a cement wall. On your hip, your trident was closed into a simple rod. You pulled it out and clicked a button that allowed it to expand out and reveal its sharp metal. You accidentally tapped another button and the blades became electrified. 

“Cool,” Johanna muttered as she watched your weapon become even deadlier. She caught her axe in her hand and together the two of you charged at the Peacekeepers. Taking multiple down at a time. Not stopping until the last one was gone. Unfortunately, even with all of the effort to stop the attack, the makeshift hospital was gone. 

You were devastated by the sight. As was Katniss. She gave a harrowing speech into the camera as a Capitol ship burned behind her. She pointed to it and shouted, “If we burn! You burn with us!” 

Wanda ran into your arms as soon as you stepped out of the hovercraft.

“I heard there was a attack in Eight. I thought, I thought,” she shook as she failed to finish her sentence. 

“It's okay,” you whispered as you held her just as tight. “I'm okay.” 

Katniss watched you and Wanda. She remembered having a similar feeling in her first games when she heard the cannon go off and she couldn't find Peeta. Again when his heart stopped in the second games. She felt it recently when she saw Peeta on television for the first time since they'd been separated. She looked at Gale and wondered if she'd feel that kind of fear if his life was at stake. She knows she'd be afraid to lose him. But would she feel the same desperation she felt for Peeta? She didn't know. She did know that she the first impressions of you that she had before were completely wrong. She thought that, much like Finnick, you were just another victor that used their fame and riches to sleep with everyone and anyone. There was a lot of coverage of it in the years since you'd won. But watching the way you were with Wanda. She realized there was something a lot more to you than that. 

“When you said your buyers would disagree,” Katniss started as the two of you walked around the woods. She was in an argument with Gale because of what Peeta was being forced to say on television. Katniss still wanted to hunt but she wasn't allowed to without at least one other person with her. She invited Johanna but she said she'd rather be burned alive because at least that torture ended in death. So she asked you and you didn't feel up to dancing in front of another camera so you agreed. “What did you mean by that?”

“I shouldn't have said that to you,” you said as you kept on walking. 

“Well you did and I want to know what that meant,” Katniss pressed on as she followed. 

“Why? It's not important,” you tried to move on from the subject and when she asked again you stopped walking. You turned to her and sighed. “Katniss, what I'm about to tell you isn't… It's not something you'll be able to easily forget. Are you sure that you want to know?” 

Katniss nodded her head, “Yes, I need to know. I can't stop thinking about it. Why would you have buyers?” 

“Because of Snow,” you stated with a shrug. “I wasn't the only one. There are, sorry, were other victors that were auctioned off to the highest bidders. Those that were found to be… desirable in the eyes of Capitol citizens or officials were forced to comply. Snow allowed us access to certain drugs that took the edge off, made the meetings bearable. But if we ever resisted, he would kill someone that we cared about. It happened to Finnick. It happened to Johanna. It happened to me. So, Katniss, when I say that you are lucky. I mean that you are lucky,” you stated before turning and walking on. 

“I don't get it. Why would he do that?” Katniss eventually asked after a while. She had gone silent after your speech and you felt bad for your snarky comment. You hardly knew what she had to endure, she was from a poor district. She'd been in the Hunger Games twice. It wasn't a fair statement. 

You shrugged at her question, “To remind us that we're still just as powerless as we were before we won? I don't know.”

Katniss stopped you from walking further and turned you to face her. She scanned your face with her eyes then she hugged you. “I'm sorry you had to go through that,” she said against your chest. You responded to the hug by wrapping your arms around her and rubbing her back.

“It's over now,” you stated before pulling away. 

“How did you manage to find someone to love through all of that? How did you allow yourself to open up to someone that way?” Katniss asked. 

You smiled as you thought about the first time you met Wanda. “Love isn't something that you find or that you decide whether or not to accept. Not when it's true. The kind of love that I have with Wanda, it snuck up on me. I never expected it and I don't think she did either. I tried to fight it, of course. She did as well, I mean I might've been a victor but I was still from the districts. Falling for me was a giant risk for her. Not just career wise but her life was at stake as well. But eventually neither of us could deny it,” you shook your head. 

“Wanda isn't from District Four?” Katniss asked dumbly. 

You laughed, “She's going to kill me when I tell you this because she thinks she might've offended you when she was doing her job but no, she isn't from Four. She's from the Capitol. She used to do the gossip segment for Capitol TV.” 

Katniss's eyes widened in recognition. “Now I remember her. Wow, I cannot believe I didn't recognize her. She's so human now.”

You nodded, “Yeah, she hated her job but it's what more than paid the bills.” 

“It must’ve been difficult to protect that love,” she sympathized. “Talk about star-crossed lovers,” she muttered. 

You stared at her for a moment as you considered asking all of the questions that had been swarming your mind long before you even met her. “You and your cousin?”

Katniss sighed through her nose as she looked at you, “He’s not my cousin. He – I don’t quite know what he is to me right now.”

 You nodded and bit your lips. “You and Peeta,” you started and Katniss’s eyes darted to the ground, “What, uh, was any of that real?” 

Katniss shook her head then she nodded then she shook her head more. “I don’t know. I’ve told myself a dozen times that it was just about survival but… I don’t know.” You nodded. You understood how complicated feelings could be. “Snow didn’t make it any easier.”

You frowned as your eyebrows knitted together. “What do you mean?”

Katniss took a deep breath, “He told me that if I couldn’t convince him and the rest of the country that my moment with berries was an act of love and not an act of defiance… he’d well, he made it seem like he’d kill everyone I cared about but instead he just sent us back into the games.” She looked off to the distance. “He wanted to avoid all of this.” She shook her head again. “I thought he was crazy. I didn’t think that my decision to save the person that saved my family and I when we were preteens would cause all of this.” 

“Katniss,” you started, you wanted to tell her that there was so much more to this. But it wouldn’t be much comfort to know that every person has just been a pawn in these games. “Let’s just focus on hunting. That’s something that does a lot more good than bad, right?”

Katniss nodded as she started walking again. 

After that the two of you were able to kill two giant elks. It took a lot to carry down to the kitchen but somehow the two of you managed. The two of you were sharing a laugh when a broadcast of Peeta came onto the screens in the cafeteria. He looked worse than the first time they showed him. Katniss covered her mouth at the sight. You shut your eyes as you tried to push away the thoughts of what they could be doing to the poor boy. It wasn't fair. 

He was once again calling for a cease fire. Well the first time he was asking for one. This time he was begging for Katniss to stop. You shook your head at his words. You have no idea what you would do in his position. 

The next propo recorded was Katniss's idea. She wanted to show Peeta what happened to their district. So the film crew went out to District 12 to film Katniss and Gale. You and Johanna were forced to go just in case there was another attack. It would look good for the cameras. 

Katniss and Gale walked around what was left of their home district, which was nothing but ashes. Bodies were melted together and you could imagine their despair as they tried to run out of the district. Katniss told the cameras what building used to be where in what used to be the town square. She stood on what once was Peeta Mellark's childhood home. Gale then told the cameras how the bombing went down. He claimed that the Mellark's had no chance to get out of there as some of the first bombs hit around the bakery. 

The footage ended up saving many lives. They intercepted another interview with Peeta and he looked much worse than before. He heard Katniss's song as Beetee and Tony disrupted the broadcast and warned her that everyone would be dead by the morning. The footage ended with Peeta being knocked out with the butt of a rifle. The camera fell as his blood splattered on the floor. 

The district had to evacuate even further into the Earth. They had a bunker just in case the Capitol tried to bomb the already underground district again. You stayed with Wanda and Pietro as the bombs shook the planet. It was hours before the walls stopped shaking. It might've been all night but without any way to track the time, it didn't really matter. People just wanted it to stop. 

Once the hovercrafts were cleared, a team of volunteers were sent to rescue Peeta. Gale was the first to volunteer, you were the second. Despite Wanda’s protests, you had to go. You had to help especially after Katniss had a meltdown. She was just like Annie. You couldn't save but maybe you could save Peeta. You couldn’t help Finnick, but you hoped you could help Katniss.

The mission wasn’t easy. You knew it wouldn’t be. Peacekeepers were everywhere. If you hadn’t had a weapon so special, you don’t think you’d have made it out alive. Getting out of the Capitol was nearly impossible but somehow the team managed to get out with only a couple casualties. When you returned, you had to face the wives and husbands of those that didn’t make it back. You don’t think you’ll ever forget their screams for those they lost. Just another reason to wake up in the middle of the night. 

Wanda wouldn’t open the door when you went to visit her. At breakfast the next morning she wouldn’t look at you. At lunch she sat close to you but still refused to address your presence. By dinner, she decided to forgive you for volunteering to go on the possible suicide mission. She hugged your bruised and cut up body and glared at you when you winced. 

“You wouldn’t be in pain if you’d of stayed,” she said and you smiled as you kissed her scowl. 

“I love you too.” She rolled her eyes as she continued to lean against you. “I told you that I’d always come back.” 

Wanda sighed deeply, “I hate that I fell in love with someone that’d risk their life to save the world. But I can’t ask you to stop.” She moved your overgrown hair behind your ear. “That hope in your heart is what made me fall in the first place.”

“You really set yourself up for failure didn’t you?” You asked with a grin as you also moved locks of her hair behind her ear. 

“Gag, I’m trying to eat here,” Pietro’s tablet went off and he quickly fumbled with trying to turn it off as you and Wanda laughed. 

With Peeta in the infirmary, Katniss began to ignore her schedule. She spent her training hours in his room. She didn’t want him to feel alone since none of his family made it out. A friend of his, Delly Cartwright, did make it to District 13. She was visiting when Katniss wasn’t. Peeta was in terrible shape when he was rescued. It was months before he was well enough to be released and in that time more districts became free from the ruling of the Capitol. 

You were only sent to other districts when they wanted to film supplies being distributed to them. To show that District 13 cared. You felt off about it but it kept you off of the frontlines where you could be safe. And since the Mockingjay was refusing to do much outside of helping Peeta back to health, there wasn’t much else expected of the Star Squad. The nickname for the squad of victors that always had the cameras on them. 

You would visit Finnick when you could in order to get him to eat after he’d nearly starved himself to death. You were kind and paitient with him until one day you unleashed your frustration with him. 

“I’m so sick of your pity party Finnick!” You shouted after he just went on and on about wanting to be dead. “Do you know how much medical supplies they’ve wasted to keep you alive? You’re not even grateful!” You started to pace the room.

“I never asked them to -” he began to shout back.

“Well too damn bad! They did! I promised Annie that I would always be there for you and I’ll be damned if you make me break that promise!”

“She’s dead! What she wanted doesn’t matter anymore!” 

“Of course it matters!” You shouted back just as desperate. “Finnick, she loved you. And you loved her! She's gone and you're still here. It’s not fair. None of this is fair. But if you were out there, you would see how selfish you've been! If you had a conversation with ten people here, you'd find out that more than half of them have lost the loves of their lives and they are still fighting!” You shook your head at him. “I've been patient with you but you're pathetic. And I can't keep doing this anymore,” you left the room. 

You didn't see him again until a few months later when he walked into the training room. He looked healthier than the last time you'd seen him. Finnick wouldn't go near you but you didn't mind. You preferred that he hated you. It meant he was alive. 

“We need something to celebrate,” Plutarch said as he eyed Katniss and Peeta. The two were always seen together. If you spotted one alone, the other wasn't too far behind. You teased her about it during training once and she jabbed you in the ribs with a baton. You stopped teasing her whenever there was a weapon around. “We were thinking of a wedding…” he kept moving his eyes towards the clueless teens. 

Katniss shrugged when she felt his eyes on her, “That's not a terrible idea. Who's getting married?�� You shook your head as you failed to hide your amusement. 

“You're not serious?” You look at Plutarch and Coin. “You're going to force those kids to fake their marriage a second time?” 

“Well, seeing as they already claimed-” 

“Wait us?” Katniss finally caught up. 

“I don't know guys,” Peeta started. 

“Hear us out-” Plutarch tried to explain again. 

“Ugh, please stop,” Johanna cut in with a roll of her eyes. “It's already been done. We can't keep spinning this broken record. I'd sooner gouge my eyes out than attend their wedding.” 

“That's not-” Katniss frowned. 

“No one was asking you, Johanna,” Plutarch finally got a full sentence in. 

You looked over at Wanda as you considered volunteering. She met your eyes and subtly shook her head. You sighed and turned to the table. “What about Johanna and…” your eyes scanned the room. You smirked as they landed on the glowering raven haired grey eyed man sitting across from Katniss and Peeta. “Gale,” you grinned. “Cressida has said that he has a face for the camera. And come on, what’s more unifying than a miner from Twelve marrying a lumberjack from Seven?” You could have sworn that you saw smoke coming out of Gale's ears. “Shows that we're all the same.” 

“That's not a bad idea,” Finnick chimed in. 

“Screw you, where'd you come from anyway?” Johanna snapped at her friend. 

“I'm just saying, no one would expect it,” Finnick shrugged. 

President Coin leaned forward on the table. She looked at each face then she said, “No. It has to be the Mockingjay.” 

“Why?” You challenged her. 

“Excuse me?” Coin stared at you directly. 

“Why does it have to be her? She's a kid,” you doubled down. “If you make them get married, you're no better than Snow.” The room went silent. No one has challenged the president so openly before. They weren't sure what they were supposed to do. 

“We'll do it,” Katniss said. “Don't punish Y/n. I've confided in them a lot and they're only trying to protect me.” She defended you. “Which I appreciate,” she turns to address you directly, “but it's not necessary. Besides, what's another fake wedding?” She looked at Peeta who appeared to be very displeased by the news. 

“Excuse me,” Peeta rose from his seat and left the room. Katniss stood up and Haymitch stopped her. 

“Let him be,” the older man said gruffly. She sat back down as she watched the door. 

“Perfect!” Plutarch clapped his hands. “Perfect! We'll get a move on. We only have a couple of weeks to pull this off!” He gathered his notes and walked off with his team. 

You didn’t want any part of the fake wedding because it made you uncomfortable. The thought of making the two teenagers continue to put on a show when they still didn't know what they wanted. It also made you look at the president of District 13 differently. When you first arrived, you thought she wanted true change. As you got to work under her for an extended period of time you began to question if she was just as power hungry as Snow was. 

Unfortunately, you couldn't stay away from the wedding party. Since District 12’s traditions weren't something that were celebratory or entertaining enough. They are private and intimate. And there isn’t enough in District 13 to spare for a Captiol type wedding. It was too risky to hold it in the woods which is something that comes from the District 7 traditions. Finnick offered up District 4 traditions which are a little more extravagant than District 12 but were doable compared to District 7 and Capitol traditions. That brought on your involvement in the whole endeavor. You kept trying to pass responsibilities off to Finnick but he was having to catch up on training since it’d been close to a year since he was rotting away in the infirmary. 

Wanda thought your wedding planning persona was cute. She’d never seen you throw yourself into something so much before. Considering that before the rebellion she only saw you for a few hours every few months, she was happy to learn about any side of you. She kissed your cheek when you were doing a seating chart that made the most sense visually.

“Is this how you'll be when we get married?” Wanda asked as she leaned her head against your shoulder. 

“Oh, we're going to get married, are we?” You retorted as you erased a name from the chart and wrote it somewhere else. 

Wanda rubbed your other shoulder as she smiled. “Of course we are,” she kisses your cheek again. “I don't join rebellions for just anyone, you know?”

You made a face. “I thought you did this for Pietro.” She walked in front of you and sat on your lap as she wrapped her arms around your neck. 

“What happened to him made me realize how unfair the system is and I wished I could do something to change it.” She held your face in her hands and played with your hair as she held your eye contact. You loved getting lost in those enchanting hazel green eyes. “I didn't get involved until the night I realized I loved you. I remember it so vividly, I nearly thought my heart was going to explode out of my chest.” She grabbed your hand and held it over her chest. She shook her head. “You were fast asleep but for a moment I couldn't tell if you were breathing. Then I imagined that you died and just the mere thought,” her eyes teared up and you reached up with your free hand to cradle her face. “I never thought I was capable of loving someone as much as I love you.” 

You felt yourself getting choked up by her confession of love. “I, wow,” you reacted with tears on the brim of your eyes. “I had no idea you felt so deeply about me.” You pressed your hand against her chest. “I am lucky that you trust me with your heart.” You leaned your head against hers and closed your eyes. “I hope I'm worth all of this death and destruction to you.” 

Wanda nuzzled against you and pulled you closer to her at your words. “You are worth the hope of a brighter future. That's what I'm fighting for.” The two of you held onto each other for a long time. You got lost in the moment with her. You felt your  heart beat in time with hers. Even though she didn't want to marry you at the time, you felt as though your souls connected that day as a promise of forever. 

At the wedding, everyone read from scripts that Effie and Plutarch wrote together. It was a cheesy and silly wedding. There were moments that made the event feel real. Like when Peeta teared up as Katniss was walked down the aisle by her sister, Primrose. Or when Katniss got choked up and went off script at the start. Not a single word she said was fabricated. Peeta didn't read his lines either.

The unifying kiss lasted a bit longer than it should have. It made you happy to see that Katniss was making a complicated situation a little less complicated. She looked happy. So did Peeta. So did everyone else. The celebration after felt real. People danced and sang. You and Wanda got to have a moment on the dance floor as well. You held her so close as the two of you swayed together at a slow song. You moved with her as the dance became a little more elaborate and the music became upbeat. There was laughter where there used to be quiet whispers. It was a bright occasion. 

Which was nice to have the memory of the celebration when the war began to take a turn. The Capitol had yet to be overturned. They began to draft as many able bodied men and women to become Peacekeepers in order to infiltrate the more radicalized districts. Attacking when they least expected. 

In Thirteen, they began to release soldiers that passed their final exams to districts the second they passed. At a certain point it began to feel like they rigged the system in order to send the troops out as fast as possible. There were, however, certain soldiers that couldn't leave for a reason or another. Like Pietro was an asset to the war room which they kept him locked away in for the majority of his days. Or if a soldier had a certain medical condition that prevented them from leaving. 

You didn't feel that you were ready when you finished your exam but you sat in your living quarters as you stared at your assignment. Wanda walked in after her exam and sat on the bed with you. She laid her head on your shoulder as she frowned down at your papers. “That's what one of those looks like,” she muttered. You made a face as you noticed she was empty handed. 

“You're not going on a mission?” You asked as you moved your arm to set your hand on her hip. 

“No,” she said as she nuzzled into your side more. “I didn't pass. I, um, I guess they found… something,” she shook her head and pulled away from you. “I have a medical condition that prevents me from going.” 

Your eyes widened with fear. “What’s wrong, Wanda? Are you going to be okay?” 

Wanda smiled with tears in her eyes, “I'm going to be just fine. Don't you worry about me. I-” She was interrupted by a knock. 

Commander Boggs stood at the door with two other soldiers. “I'm here to personally retrieve you. It seems as though the Mockingjay made plans of her own yesterday. We leave in a half hour. Say your goodbyes now.” He stepped away and shut the door as a courtesy. 

You turned to Wanda with a pounding heart. You didn't want to leave without knowing that you would be coming back to her. “Wanda, I love you. I can't lose you. Please tell me, this medical condition isn't serious.” 

Wanda held both of your hands in hers. “Y/n. I'm fine. I'm better than fine. I will tell you everything when you come back to me. Because you will come back to me, right?” 

You nodded and pulled her into a tight hug. Then you kissed her lips and memorized the way her soft lips felt against yours. With your eyes closed, you leaned your forehead against hers and whispered, “I will always come back to you.” You promised just as Boggs knocked on the door to signal that it was time. You pulled your medallion out of your pocket and handed it to Wanda. “This has always been my good luck charm. I want you to have it.” Wanda shook her head but you put it in her hand and closed her fingers into a fist as you stood up to leave. You reminded her that you loved her. She told you that she loved you as tears streamed down her face. 

The Star Squad was assembled and meant to be safe from any combat. The group was meant to be filmed not to engage in real battle. The team wasn't even supposed to exist but with Katniss cutting her honeymoon short and sneaking off to the Capitol on her own, Coin was forced to make it look like that was her idea. You couldn't be mad, Katniss wanted Snow dead. Everyone did. But you were a little upset that she didn't include you in the plan once you found out that Peeta and Johanna helped her escape. 

The team moved through the rundown Capitol with precaution, using a device nicknamed the Holo. It mapped out and scanned for PODs, which were unpredictable traps planted throughout the streets. You couldn't believe what had become of the once vibrant city. You knew where Wanda’s home was from where you stood, no matter where you were. You remember taking long walks with her through the city during your time with her. The two of you were always in some ridiculous disguise to allow for privacy. 

She would race you when she was in a playful mood. The two of you would accidentally knock into others with childish snickers. Other times, you would spot a cheesy gift at one of the many stands at the market. You would buy her something that you knew she'd hate in order to share a laugh then surprise her with something she'd love. You eventually found out that she kept both types of gifts in a box under a floorboard under her bed. 

It was one of the signs that let you know she loved you. 

You think about her when Homes and Mitchell are blown up. The explosion was loud and had your ears ringing. Gale had to grab you by your vest to get you running as guns were firing. The team ran to hide in three different buildings. Katniss and Gale used their explosive arrows to blow up the Peacekeepers vehicles before they could use their explosives against the Star Squad. 

Boggs and Jackson were able to get everyone directed into a single building and reconvene. They agreed that the best course of action was to retreat back to base but Katniss cut in with her personal mission, claiming it was Coin's assignment. “I was sent here to kill Snow. Coin wants us to broadcast the entire thing in order to get the Peacekeepers to surrender,” she wasn't convincing but no one was in a position to argue when the team was closer to the Presidential Mansion than they were to safety. 

Boggs didn't challenge her. He agreed to follow her lead. He projected the map of the city to show that the number of PODs had grown. The best chance was underground. Pollux, a former avox turned rebel cameraman and soldier, volunteered his knowledge from the years of experience he had working in the sewer system of the Capitol.

You had to pretend that the water that you sloshed through was the ocean that you once played in as a child. “Thinking about home?” Finnick asked you as he nudged your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you responded, “you?” 

He nodded his head, “although this smell isn't making it easy. I miss that sea salt smell. I didn't mind tasting that air.” 

“Aw man,” you shook your head as you remembered the crystal blue sea. “When all of this is over, the first thing I'm doing is taking Wanda to Four. She deserves a nice beach day after everything she's been through.” 

“I think we all do,” Finnick added. “But don't worry, I won't be too needy when I come along. Not like you were.” His joke hit you harder than it was meant to. It felt like a different life. You invaded Finnick and Annie's home because you couldn't be alone. You joined them on their dates whenever you needed the company. Annie took care of you whenever she was capable of doing so. She was such a great person. She didn't deserve to go the way she did.

“It's okay, I deserve it,” you patted his back. He hugged you from the side while the both of you continued to walk through the sewers. You missed him so much while he was lost. You were happy to have him back. You hoped that one day he would move on because that's what Annie would have wanted. 

The team eventually found a dry space to rest for a few hours. You were the first on the watch rotation. You were jumpy. There was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that warned you. In the moment, you ignored it. When you fell asleep after you woke up Boggs, you continued to ignore the feeling. 

Then you woke up to screams and being shoved. Katniss was shoving you awake. Everyone ran out of the dry space and ran through the tunnels as they were chased by mutts. You tried to shoot at the mutts but you couldn't slow down enough to aim. Directions were being shouted out and in the hysteria the team members that weren't being mauled by the faceless creatures ran into an area that was meant for maintenance workers. Several of them ran up a ladder to escape. Just as Katniss was about to climb, a creature took her down which sent you and Peeta running to her rescue. Finnick was shouting from the opening for everyone to hurry. 

With your trident you were able to fend off the creatures in front of you but it was Johanna that managed to protect you from behind. Katniss and Peeta managed to get the creatures away from them with Gale's help as well as yours and Johanna's. Katniss ran up the ladder first, followed by Peeta, then Johanna. It was you and Gale that were next when another wave of mutts came rushing through. You tried to climb up as fast as you could to allow Gale the time to climb but both of you were caught by the wave. Just as you were being pulled up by Peeta, your legs were caught by a mutt and had you dragged back down. 

If it hadn't been for your special trident, you wouldn't have made it out of the sewers alive. You managed to save what was left of Gale. His right leg was shredded and gushing blood. The two of you crawled through the tunnels together and managed to catch up with what was left of the team. Katniss looked relieved but the feeling didn't last long as a bullet fired and hit Gale in the head. You had been the one holding him up as it happened. His blood and his brains painted your face. 

“Run!” You shouted as more Peacekeepers appeared. Katniss was in shock, you had to grab her as you ran through the parking garage. Deadly light beams flashed from the ceiling at random. The first one took down Messalla. He turned to dust as fast as the light touched him. “Run!” You screeched at the top of your lungs again as the floor shredded behind the Leeg sisters. Leeg 2 tripped over herself and fell into the blades. Leeg 1 turned as she heard her sister's cries, that split second of hesitation took her life. 

Finally, the lights stopped as did the blades and the remaining members of the Star Squad were running out of the death trap and into the dark streets of the Capitol. There were digital and physical posters everywhere of the rebels' faces, including yours and the other former victors. There didn't seem to be a place to hide. The adrenaline coursing through your veins had you jumping at every sound as you tried to think of where to hide. 

“I know where we are,” Cressida said breathlessly, “I know where to go.” She guided the team to a clothing shop. A woman with tiger-like features answered the door and rushed everyone inside. She brought the team of rebels into the basement. You took careful steps as you observed the space with your weapon drawn. Cressida, Castor, and Pollux were already standing around the basement. When you deduced that it was safe, you collapsed on the last step. 

You woke up with a gasp of air, startled by the delicate touch of the woman that was hosting you. She had been stitching a gash on your bicep when you woke up. You frowned as she retreated. You knew her but you couldn't remember how before you slipped back into unconsciousness. The adrenaline had deserted your body, leaving it exhausted without an ounce of energy. 

“Wanda,” you muttered as you felt someone cradling your face in their hands. You leaned into the touch and forced your eyes open, anxious to see the love of your life. It was Johanna that you saw instead. She was wiping your face with a wet cloth. “Oh, it's you,” you muttered as you shut your eyes again. 

“Shut up, you know you're happy to see me,” she said softly as she continued to clean your face. “Finnick made it. So did the two love birds. Cressida and her bugs are alive too,” she quietly informed you.

You tried to swallow a lump forming in your throat but the emotions hit you too hard to hide them. “I couldn't save him,” you said through your tears. Johanna nodded as she continued to clean Gale's blood from your face with a frown as tears built up in her eyes. She cared about you a lot and it hurt her to see you fall apart like that. You stopped crying and sat up as you felt guilty for the display of emotion when everyone in the room had lost people. You weren't even close with Gale. It just sucked with how hard you fought to keep him alive and just when you thought you had, he was gone before you or anyone could do anything. 

You looked around the room and saw Finnick cleaning the blades of his trident. Cressida, Pollux, and Castor were tinkering with an old model of a Capitol television. Katniss and Peeta were holding each other as they slept. Her nose was red and her cheeks were stained with tears. You were certain were shed for the loss of her former hunting partner and best friend. 

“When do you think we'll continue?” You asked Johanna with a mouth full of a sandwich she'd handed you. 

She took a slow breath as she considered her answer. “When the next opportunity presents itself. We're in too deep to turn back now.” You nodded as you chewed. 

Pollux cheered as he managed to repair the television. A mandatory broadcast that invited all Capitol citizens to Snow's mansion gave the opportunity to infiltrate the mansion. But it was only safe for two people to go. You were the first to volunteer. Katniss was the second. Peeta protested but Katniss was able to convince him that it had to be her. His prosthetic leg was broken, he couldn't take your place even if Katniss wasn't able to talk him down.  Finnick almost talked you out of going but he didn't see the point.

“When Wanda asks, I tried to take your place,” Finnick said as he helped you get dressed up. 

“Oh if I ever tell her this story, you did take my place,” you joked. He patted your shoulder as he agreed with a grin. He adjusted the holster with the trident inside so that it was still hidden but gave you easy access. Then he handed you a stolen Peacekeeper rifle and helped you hide it under the heavy coat. “If this goes south, tell her I'm sorry and that I love her,” you told Finnick with fear in your eyes. 

Finnick sighed, “Things will go south if you think like that.”

“Promise me that you'll tell her,” you stated firmly. He agreed to deliver the message. “And make sure that when all of this is over and we come out on top that she is taken care of. If they still give us our winnings, make sure she gets mine. And that she can have my place in Four. Make sure that you disable all of the bugs,” you speak urgently as if you don't tell him these things now, no one will ever know your last wishes. 

“Y/n,” Finnick looked you in the eye with worry, “Should I take your place? You have a life to start after this. I don't. Maybe I should-” 

“There's no time,” Tigris warned as she rushed away from the windows. “You and Katniss have to leave now.” 

You nodded and turned back to Finnick, “I'll be fine I just want to make sure that Wanda is taken care of just in case.” Finnick nodded as he agreed to ensure that Wanda was taken care of. 

“But you're going to come back, and you're going to take care of her yourself, okay?” Finnick encouraged as he hugged you. You closed your eyes as you stood in his arms before you stepped away and turned to see Katniss and Peeta saying their goodbyes. They shared a kiss and you looked away as you felt like you were imposing in a private moment. 

“Katniss, we better go,” you said as you put your hood over your head. She nodded as she stepped away from her twice faux husband. 

Together, the two of you walked out into the crowded street. You kept your head down enough to not get noticed but not so much to have your view obstructed. You and Katniss got pretty close to the gates, it made your heart pound so hard that you could hardly hear anything. But with each step closer, you grew more confident that you'd be able to pull this off. Then you saw Peacekeepers were pulling hoods down. In a panic, you and Katniss turned around only to find more soldiers pulling hoods down. So you both turned back towards the pit before the gate where they were separating children from their parents. 

You lost your confidence as you couldn't figure out where to go from there. You were both trapped. Then guns started firing. “It's the rebels!” Someone shouted and you pushed Katniss ahead of you to get her closer to the gates. Your hood fell and Peacekeepers charged towards you. With all of the innocent civilians around, you didn't want them to get caught in the crossfire so you dropped the rifle and pulled out the trident. 

You fought off the Peacekeepers as you saw rebel trucks rolling through the crowd. A small boy ran up to you and kicked you in the knee as you fought off Peacekeepers. The small distraction allowed a Peacekeeper to get the upper hand on you as he took your trident from you and tried to stab you through the chest with it. But because of the programming that Tony and Beetee did to the weapon, the blade disappeared before it could harm you and the part of the staff that he was holding heated until he dropped the weapon. You caught the trident as it fell and stabbed him through the chest. 

You pulled it out and rushed to find Katniss when everyone stopped as Capitol hovercrafts loomed over the pit of children and dropped parachutes as if they were gifts from sponsors. The children reached out to them in excitement. You had just found Katniss when the parachutes exploded. 

The two of you fell back and you hit your head hard on a broken piece of concrete. Everything went to black as you heard nothing but screams. 

When you woke up, you were in a hospital. It was white and bright. You'd been in there before but not in District 13. This was the hospital in the Capitol. Your heart picked up with fear until you realized that your hand was being held by Wanda as she slept in a chair by your bedside. 

Your heart rate on the monitor slowed down as you calmed. You wiggled your fingers to try and bring circulation back to them. As you did, you felt the familiar shape of your medallion pressing against the palm of your hand. Wanda sat up as she felt you move. “Oh thank goodness!” She cheered as she finally saw your eyes open. She leaned in and kissed on the mouth then she leaned her forehead against yours with closed eyes. “You came back to me,” she whispered. 

“I promised, didn't I?” You replied with a raspy voice. 

She laughed through the tears that started to fall in her relief. “You can't make that promise again because you're never leaving my side again. Do you hear me? Never,” she demanded as she pulled back to look at you. Her eyes danced as they scanned your features. “Our child needs you almost as much as I do,” she said in a broken whisper. 

“Our what?” Your eyes widened at the news and then it clicked for you. That's the condition she was in that she couldn't leave Thirteen on assignment for. Wanda nodded as she wiped her tears. 

“We can talk more after the doctor sees you,” she said as she hit a button on the wall. You couldn't believe the news. You couldn't believe that the rebels had won. You had no idea that when you were knocked out by the concrete that you would be waking up in a new and free world. It was not how you saw the war ending, but you didn't mind. You were happy it was over.

The rebels won but President Coin didn't. She wanted to implement a version of the Hunger Games with only Capitol children. Any child born in the Capitol or from a female Capitol citizen would be eligible in the first reaping. First. That word led you to believe that there would be future games. That made your future child eligible. You voted against it. But unfortunately, the votes for it outweighed those against. You hadn't realized that Katniss was angry about the loss of her sister until you heard about Prim’s death. 

Then at the ceremony where she was supposed to shoot President Snow with an arrow, her aim went a bit higher and instead pierced President Coin in the heart with her arrow. A rush of people fled towards the stage to aid Coin as she fell to the front of it. Snow laughed himself to death as he choked on his own blood. Katniss was about to eat a nightlock pill before Peeta took it from her. She was then taken into custody. You couldn't see her for days while a committee discussed her fate. 

You did speak to her character when the committee brought you in for questioning. In the footage of the day, they caught a moment between the two of you when she looked at you and you looked away with a disappointed expression. They used that to accuse you of knowing that she planned on killing the president. You revealed Coin’s shocking plans for the future Capitol Games. You didn't go into the details of the disagreement, you only revealed that there was one. 

She was sent to District 12 on conditions that you weren't clear on because they were highly confidential. But there were rumors. When you got the chance, you visited her to find out what she was thinking when she voted to have a new version of the Hunger Games and what she was thinking when she shot Coin instead of Snow. You had so many questions for her. But, when you found her in her home you decided that it didn't matter what her motivations were. She was lost in her grief. Peeta lived in the home he was awarded after their games and he said that he checked on her when she allowed it but there wasn't much else he could do for her other than keep her alive until she was ready to live again. 

You thanked him and offered your support whenever he or she needed it. Then you returned to District 4. There, you and Wanda were helping the district rebuild. She loved it in the district more than either of you thought she would. She was able to bond with the community better than she did when she was in the Capitol. Even her twin brother, Pietro, found a life for himself in District 4. 

The two of you didn't marry until after the baby was born. Well, babies. Wanda gave birth to Tommy and Billy in the new District 4 hospital that you helped build with a team of men and women and other non-gender conforming persons. They were the first boys to be born in the new world. The first baby to be born after the war was over was a girl. She was born a couple of months before the twins were born. 

You cried as you held your sons in your arms. Not only because there were so many close calls that almost prevented you from experiencing the moment. But because without the war, without the games, without all of the hardships, those boys wouldn't exist.  You never thought that you'd ever be grateful for the suffering you endure until you held your boys and thought of them as the reward. 

For the wedding Pietro and Johanna each carried one of the babies. Johanna was your best woman and Pietro was Wanda’s man of honor. Each baby had a ring that was attached to a pillow. Finnick officiated the ceremony. Many were in attendance, including a much healthier Katniss and Peeta. You attended their own private wedding ceremony a few years later. Surprisingly, a sober Haymitch Abernathy with a ring on his marital finger and a smile as he sat next to his wife, Effie Trinket. She didn't think Effie Abernathy had the same ring to it. Your wedding wasn't televised and you were grateful for the privacy as you and Wanda celebrated the union with the people that mattered in your lives. It wasn't a show for strangers to tune into or to be inspired by. It was just a fun night that celebrated love. 

Life was good.

But life wasn't good throughout the entire country. There were still people that weren't entirely happy with the changes that were being implemented. People were losing jobs. Not everyone had a home to return to and those that did had expected an upgrade for their troubles. Things weren't moving at the pace that everyone wanted. You carried a guilt for having such a peaceful life that you chose to get involved in anyway that you could.

“I have to go to the Capitol next week,” you sighed as you told Wanda with a frown while you laid with her in bed. 

“What for?” She asked as she sat up. 

“I have to meet with the head of the housing department to discuss a few things and offer my help,” you stated vaguely, you were tired and comfortable. You hardly had the energy to go into detail. 

“You have to be careful when you're there, I've heard that crime rates are high right now,” Wanda warned as she settled back against you. “Apparently there’s a group of former Peacekeepers that weren't too happy about losing their positions of power. They've been targeting people from the districts that live in or even visit the Capitol.”

“Please, I've survived an arena and a rebellion. I can handle a bunch of bigots,” you muttered. “But I hear you,” you kissed her cheek. “I'll be careful,” you promised with your eyes closed. “I love you,” you whispered as you started to fall asleep. 

Visiting the Capitol opened your eyes to how bad things had gotten there. It wasn’t the lively city it once was. It looked like any other district before the rebellion and before the rebuilds and renovations. You only saw so much from the back window of the vehicle you were being driven in. But it was more than enough to get your guard up. Your meeting went well with the woman in charge of the housing and other restorations throughout the districts. She was very receptive to your idea’s on the kinds of houses that people should be living in as well as the kinds of fundraising efforts that can be done and the jobs that could be made in each district. She loved the proposal you had put together and when the meeting was over, she invited you out to celebrate. You should have declined but you knew how important networking was for the project. She brought you to one of the more high end bars in the Capitol. The buildings that surrounded the bar were covered in tags and there were tents for the homeless across the street. You couldn't believe it had gotten so bad. 

As you celebrated with the woman, she introduced you to prospective investors. You chatted with many people throughout the night until you were ready to leave. But when you stepped out, the car you called for wasn't there. You looked around confused and that's when someone snuck behind you and pulled a sack over your head. 

You fought against them but more people came along. You couldn't see which made it difficult to tell how many people there were as you tried to fight them off without a weapon. Which one of them had. They hit the front of your knee hard enough to have you collapse to the ground. You were almost certain that they had shattered your kneecap. The group of them kicked and hit you from every direction until you stopped moving. 

Two of them lifted you up by your arms and dragged you to a truck. They drove you to the center of the city and strapped your wrists against the new Mockingjay statue. They burned the old Capitol emblem into your abdomen, then they left you to be found in the morning. 

By the time they brought you down from the statue, there was no saving you. 

Finnick found out from the news that morning. He ran over to your house to try and stop Wanda from turning on the television but he was too late. He walked into the home and found her screaming on the floor as her brother held her. The image of you hanging on the Mockingjay statue was still on the screen. Finnick dropped to his knees and cried into his hands. 

Johanna found out in the home of a woman she'd met the night before. She ran out and got on the first train to Four to find out if the broadcast was just a scare tactic. It was the only thing the news showed all day. But she kept telling herself that it didn't even look like you. That it had to be a fake doll or something. But when she got to Four and found the home of distraught loved ones, she had to accept what she refused to believe. You were gone for good. Your six-year-old boys ran up to her with scared and confused expressions. They didn't know yet. She took them to their room to distract them until she could find out what Wanda was planning to do. 

Peeta was in the hospital when he found out. He asked the nurse to shut off the broadcast while Katniss slept. He shed silent tears as he held their daughter. He was supposed to call you the day before to tell you the news but he thought it couldn't hurt to wait a day. He didn't inform Katniss of your brutal passing until she was discharged from the hospital the next day. She was furious about the delay. 

Haymitch read about the incident in the newspaper. He sat up in his lounge chair, getting ready to tell Effie but she walked into the living room with a tear streaked face and fell into his lap. The older couple held each other tight as they mourned the tragic loss of their friend. 

President Paylor wasn't putting up with the violence in the country from that point. It wasn't the way you imagined making a difference, but your death was not in vain. It opened the eyes to the public and to the government how society was failing. How things hadn't changed enough. Harsh laws were implemented to put a stop to the hate crimes that were being done throughout the country. Rewards were given to those that turned in the murders that committed the acts. It was a sort of witch hunt but the end result was a peaceful Panem. 

When it came to finding the group of people that murdered you, it took a couple years longer than your wife liked. There was a trial. And when they were appointed guilty, Wanda put in the request to be the one to take their lives. It was denied. She wasn't allowed to attend their execution. Finnick did, for her. She needed to hear that they were gone for good from someone she trusted. 

When he returned to Four that night, he confirmed that each of the people had been executed. Wanda broke down and cried in his arms because it didn't change anything for her. You were still gone. She was still angry. 

“You should have promised to come back to me,” she whispered to your grave stone as she kneeled in front of it. “You always came back when you made that promise.” She weaved your medallion between her fingers as she spoke. The action made her feel close to you. She watched you do it for many years. She thought she'd watch you do it for the rest of her life. Although you would have loved to have more time with her, you were grateful for the time that you did have with her. Because your death made a safer Panem for her and your loved ones. 

Though significant sacrifices were made, in the end, you wouldn’t have changed a single thing. 

Or would you?

The Tribute

[ivanttakethis]

Round 7 Predictions

Since we’re only halfway through Alien Stage, I don’t think there will be a Round 7 winner.

There’s a ton of material Q and V could get into if both Till and Luka survive in some way or another. I also think there’s still a lot more left to learn about the lore of Alien Stage as a competition and how the whole system functions for the competition part to end so quickly.

I think Till will be rescued by the rebels at some point, either before or during Round 7. He’ll get to reconnect with Mizi, see how much she’s changed, and hopefully come to see her as less of a godly savior and more of a person.

Freeing Till would also force him to confront his own wants and dreams beyond escaping the competition and taking Mizi with him. What does Till want out of life now that both he and Mizi are free? How does he process all of the shit that went down in the previous rounds, especially Round 6?

As for Luka I think one of two things will happen: (1) he won’t be rescued by the rebels at all or (2) he’s offered the opportunity to leave with them but he refuses.

The second option is definitely more interesting as it will tell us more about Luka’s mindset, but also Hyuna’s if she can choose whether or not a rescue attempt is made for him. It would possibly give us insight into how they feel about each other given the current circumstances.

Either way, I don’t think Luka will leave Alien Stage or rebel against the aliens.

What would be his reason to? He’s the face of the whole competition. His status within the alien society has provided him with a lot of access that he could possibly not be able to live without, given his chronic illnesses.

But more than that, I think he’ll stay for personal reasons. Fame? Accolades? Ego? Maybe a mix of all three? Or perhaps some long buried guilt or remorse? There’s still a lot we don’t know about his feelings and motivations.

Personally I think he’s too interesting of a character to kill off so soon (a.k.a. I want to study him under a microscope).

Now this next part is me being delusional, so I’m putting it under the cut.

So,

If Till is rescued before Round 7 starts, that leaves Luka as the winner by default. But that’d probably be pretty boring as a finale for the audience.

How do they spice things up? By healing/reviving Ivan and putting him up against Luka.

Think about it: they’re both insanely popular in-universe, they’re somewhat equally matched in terms of singing ability, and they’re both considered pretty boys.

Think of the fashion! Think of the theatrics!! The material is LITERALLY. RIGHT. THERE.

In my opinion they’re two of the most complex characters in the cast, but they haven’t had much (if any) direct interaction with one another. I’d like to see how their similarities and differences stack up once they’re side by side, and what that tells us about each of them.

They’re also both weirdos (in their own ways), so putting them head to head would be the ultimate Freak (derogatory) vs. Freak (affectionate) final showdown.

And if Ivan were to win, he would essentially take over Luka’s role as the face of Alien Stage. How would that affect him personally? What would he do with his life after?

If he learns that Till managed to escape with the rebels, would Ivan still want to escape on his own? Or would he be content to stay put with the knowledge that Till is free?

Similar to Till with Mizi, who is Ivan beyond helping and supporting Till? What are his hopes and dreams?

I went more in depth about how Ivan could potentially be brought back and what ramifications it could have on the story depending on how it’s done in this post, if anyone wants to read that.